'Oh, my dear Mrs Maurice, I would not have you to suppose that I object
to _giving_--by no means--it is only from an ostentatious display of
charity that I shrink--this is a duty that should be exercised in
private, a--' Mrs Town was interrupted in the midst of her vindication
by a servant who entered and placed a note in her hand, which she folded
closer and was about putting in her pocket--'Please, ma'am,' said the
servant, 'she wishes you to read it now, and say if you can see her.'

Mrs Town glanced at the note and coloured slightly, but she had been too
long accustomed to concealing her feelings for a stronger manifestation.
'Tell her to come to-morrow,' said she.

The servant was gone a moment and again returned, 'Please, ma'am,' said
he, 'the woman won't go away, she says she _will_ see you, for her
husband is sick, and her children starving, and she must have her
_pay_.' Mrs Town started from her seat: this was a strange comment upon
her beautiful theory of individual charity. Mrs Maurice retired as soon
as possible, and as she passed through the hall she saw a miserably-clad
woman with a face extremely haggard and care-worn, whom she supposed to
be the person claiming--not _charity_, but _justice_, of Mrs Town. Effie
saw that her mother's face was unusually clouded, and she did not
venture to comment upon the past scene, but she said to her brother as
soon as they were alone, 'I am glad we are not rich like Mrs Town,
Harry, lest we should make a _god_ of our money.'

Mrs Maurice did not, however, neglect at a suitable time to fix upon
Effie's mind the impression she had received from the scene at Mrs
Town's. 'Remember, my child,' she said, 'if you should ever live to
become a woman, that _justice_ should be preferred to _generosity_, and
never talk of _giving_ while some poor person may be suffering for that