And I tell you, the Lord only knows what we may see tomorrow, if that poor fellow holds out as he's begun." "Horrid!" said Emmeline, every drop of blood receding from her cheeks.
"O, Cassy, do tell me what I shall do!" "What I've done.

Do the best you can,--do what you must,--and make it up in hating and cursing." "He wanted to make me drink some of his hateful brandy," said Emmeline; "and I hate it so--" "You'd better drink," said Cassy.

"I hated it, too; and now I can't live without it.

One must have something;--things don't look so dreadful, when you take that." "Mother used to tell me never to touch any such thing," said Emmeline.
"_Mother_ told you!" said Cassy, with a thrilling and bitter emphasis on the word mother.

"What use is it for mothers to say anything?
You are all to be bought and paid for, and your souls belong to whoever gets you.