hand.

Now, mark the dilemma.

She was by nature a good child. From her parents and those about her she
had imbibed no contrary influence. But then they had taught her nothing.
Poor men's smoky cabins are not always porticoes of moral philosophy.
This little maid had no instinct to evil, but then she might be said
to have no fixed principle. She had heard honesty commended, but never
dreamed of its application to herself. She thought of it as something
which concerned grown-up people, men and women. She had never known
temptation, or thought of preparing resistance against it.

Her first impulse was to go back to the old treasurer, and explain to
him his blunder. He was already so confused with age, besides a natural
want of punctuality, that she would have had some difficulty in making
him understand it. She saw _that_ in an instant. And then it was such a
bit of money: and then the image of a larger allowance of butcher's meat
on their table next day came across her, till her little eyes glistened,
and her mouth moistened. But then Mr. Ravenscroft had always been
so good-natured, had stood her friend behind the scenes, and even
recommended her promotion to some of her little parts. But again the old
man was reputed to be worth a world of money. He was supposed to have
fifty pounds a year clear of the theatre. And then came staring upon her
the figures of her little stockingless and shoeless sisters. And when
she looked at her own neat white cotton stockings, which her situation
at the theatre had made it indispensable for her mother to provide for
her, with hard straining and pinching from the family stock, and thought
how glad she should be to cover their poor feet with the same, and how
then they could accompany her to rehearsals, which they had hitherto