And Those Who Trespass Against Us by Helen M MacPherson

poverty for the better part of the year. How do you manage to pay your creditors?"
    Susan lightly patted Katherine's cheek. "I like you. You remind me a lot of Sister Coreen. She was always asking questions, never quite realising what was impolite to ask." Susan sobered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring her up."
    Katherine smiled sadly. "It's all right. I believe people should remember her for who she was. As for me, the nuns were forever cautioning me against my outspokenness. In fact, it's a good thing I'm a nun. I don't expect any husband would endure my incessant questions. I'm sorry to be so intrusive."
    "I don't mind. Women should be able to ask questions. There are three ways I manage to stay out of the poor house. The first and more widely used means is through a system of barter. I do this with families who wish to purchase something in exchange for items such as eggs, milk, and sometimes cured or fresh meat from an animal they've recently slaughtered. I then deduct what we both agree is a reasonable sum from their final account. This, in turn, reduces my living costs. The second way is I treat the hard-working families differently, as you've just seen. They give me what they can, when they can. As for the well-established landowners who refuse to raise a finger for those who struggle to make a living, that's a different kettle of fish." Susan's eyes glinted with barely concealed anger. "As far as I'm concerned, for them there's only one mode of payment----on demand."
    "If only more people were as benevolent as you, particularly those who seem to have a wealth of riches and yet are still reluctant to use it on anyone but themselves."
    "Speaking of money, you may be surprised to know, even before I bought this store, I was a woman of independent means." She chuckled. "Close your mouth Katherine, or you'll catch flies. I don't have a husband, but this wasn't always so. I was once married to a man who loved money more than anything. We arrived in Sydney when I was barely twenty and he immediately set about making money in any scheme that was profitable. His real luck came when gold was discovered in Sofala. He wasn't lured, like so many were, by the promise of gold. He gained his fortune by selling pieces of equipment needed by the miners to find the precious metal. He sold these tools at exorbitant prices and, like most men, his greed consumed him. One day he pushed his luck too far and was killed by a digger down on his luck and desperate for just a respite from his lot in life. Unfortunately the miner got neither, ending his life at the end of a rope. I took the strongbox, which was rightfully mine, sold the store and provisions to another man, and left. Rather than return to Sydney, which I detested, I opted for a burgeoning country town, comfortable in the financial knowledge I'd never have to marry again."
    "You don't want to remarry?" Katherine looked at Susan. Her complexion had not yet been ravaged by the harsh climate, like she'd seen with so many other women in the town. "You're still a relatively young woman. I'm sure there'd be many gentlemen in the district more than happy to marry you."
    Susan smiled and furtively glanced at the stairs leading to the second level of her store. "I've had a number of offers, but the memories of my marriage aren't happy ones. My husband wasn't a kindly man. He found no wrong in hitting a woman. Nor was he content with the love of one. He was a regular in the local watering hole, or as you would call it a tavern, and a favourite of the professional women who worked there. I'm not saying all men are cut from the same cloth, but my life now has different priorities. Finding another husband is not one of them."
    "I'm continually surprised by the women of this town. Catriona's so strong and confident with the men she deals with, and you're self-sufficient."
    Susan again picked up the handkerchief and placed it in Katherine's hand. "I'm self-sufficient enough to offer a gift to a