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Sunday morning。 That was plain enough; plain enough for Monday

morning too。 As she went down the hill to the station; going to

school; she took the saying with her。

〃Sell all thou hast; and give to the poor。〃

Did she want to do that? Did she want to sell her

pearl…backed brush and mirror; her silver candlestick; her

pendant; her lovely little necklace; and go dressed in drab like

the Wherrys: the unlovely unbed Wherrys; who were the 〃poor〃

to her? She did not。

She walked this Monday morning on the verge of misery。 For

she did want to do what was right。 And she didn't want to do

what the gospels said。 She didn't want to be poor……really

poor。 The thought was a horror to her: to live like the Wherrys;

so ugly; to be at the mercy of everybody。

〃Sell that thou hast; and give to the poor。〃

One could not do it in real life。 How dreary and hopeless it

made her!

Nor could one turn the other cheek。 Theresa slapped Ursula on

the face。 Ursula; in a mood of Christian humility; silently

presented the other side of her face。 Which Theresa; in

exasperation at the challenge; also hit。 Whereupon Ursula; with

boiling heart; went meekly away。

But anger; and deep; writhing shame tortured her; so she was

not easy till she had again quarrelled with Theresa and had

almost shaken her sister's head off。

〃That'll teach you;〃 she said; grimly。

And she went away; unchristian but clean。

There was something unclean and degrading about this humble

side of Christianity。 Ursula suddenly revolted to the other

extreme。

〃I hate the Wherrys; and I wish they were dead。 Why does my

father lea

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