self out of all comparison with the landlady's daughter. Clem had the obvious advantage of being able to ridicule the Hewetts' poverty, and did so without sparing. Now, for instance, when Clara was about to pass with a distant "Good-night," Clem remarked:
"It's cold, ain't it? I wonder you don't put on a ulster, a night like this."
"Thank you," was the reply. "I shan't consult you about how I'm to dress."
Clem laughed, knowing she had the best of the joke.
The other went upstairs, and entered the back-room, where it was quite dark.
"That you, Clara?" asked Amy's voice. "The candle's on the mantel-shelf"
"Why aren't you asleep?" Clara returned sharply. But the irritation induced by Clem's triumph quickly passed in reflection on Sidney's mode of leave-taking. That had not at all annoyed her, but it had made her thoughtful. She lit the candle. Its light disclosed a room much barer than the other one. There was one bed, in which Amy and Annie
