"Oh!" Rebecca cried, and shivered. There was a pause; then she said,
faintly, "For your own sake?"
Alice looked up sullenly. "Nobody need know; we would only say it had
been left to--her. Nobody would know."
Suddenly, as she spoke, despite the plain face and the red hair, Alice
looked like her mother. Rebecca stepped back with a sort of shock.
Alice, crying a little, got up and began to pull down her hair and
braid it, with unsteady fingers. Her step-mother watched her silently;
then she turned to go away; then came back swiftly, the tears running
down her face.
"Oh, Alice, it is my fault! I've had you twenty-two years, and yet you
are like-- See, Alice, child; give her a chance to be kind to him, in
you. Oh, I--I don't know how to say it; I mean, let her have a chance!
Oh--don't you see what I mean? She said she was sorry!" All the
harshness had melted out of Rebecca's face; she was nothing but
gentleness, the tears falling down her cheeks, her voice broken with
love. "Alice, be good, dear. Be good. Be good. And I--I _will_ be
pleasanter, Alice; I'll try, indeed; I'll try--"