"I thought maybe your grandmother could send you," said Abby.
"Oh no, grandma can't afford to. Sometimes I think I could work my own way through college, if it wasn't for being a burden in the mean time, but I don't know."
Suddenly Abby Atkins planted herself on the sidewalk in front of Ellen, and looked at her sharply, while an angry flush overspread her face.
"It ain't true what I heard the other day, is it?"
"Well, I heard you were going to be married."
Ellen turned quite pale, and looked at the other girl with a steady regard of grave, indignant blue eyes.
"Well, don't be mad, Ellen. I heard real straight that you were going to marry Granville Joy in the fall."
"I didn't suppose you were, but I knew he had always wanted you."
"Always wanted me!" said Ellen. "Why, he's only just out of school!"
"Oh, I know that, and he's only just gone to work, and he can't be earning much, but I heard it."
The stream of factory operatives had thinned; many had taken the trolley-cars, and others had gone to the opposite side of the street, which was shady. The two girls were alone, standing before a vacant lot grown to weeds, rank bristles of burdock, and slender spikes of evanescent succory. Abby burst out in a passionate appeal, clutching Ellen's arm hard.
"Ellen, promise me you never will," she cried.
"Oh, promise me you never will marry anybody like him. I know it's none of my business--I know that is something that is none of anybody's business, no matter how much they think of anybody; but I think more of you than any man ever will, I don't care who he is. I know I do, Ellen Brewster. And don't you ever marry a man like Granville Joy, just an ordinary man who works in the shop, and will never do anything but work in the shop. I know he's good, real good and steady, and it ain't against him that he ain't rich and has to work for his living, but I tell you, Ellen Brewster, you ain't the right sort to marry a man like that, and have a lot of children to work in shops. No man, if he thinks anything of you, ought to ask you to; but all a man thinks of is himself. Granville Joy, or any other man who wanted you, would take you and spoil you, and think he'd done a smart thing." Abby spoke with such intensity that it redeemed her from coarseness. Ellen continued to look at her, and two red spots had come on her cheeks.