"Precisely so," replied Mr. Noel Vanstone.

"You have inherited your own father's fortune,
as well as the fortune of Mr. Andrew Vanstone,
and yet you feel no obligation to act from motives
of justice or generosity towards these two sisters?
All you think it necessary to say to them is—
you have got the money, and you refuse to part
with a single farthing of it?"

"Most accurately stated! Miss Garth, you
are a woman of business. Lecount, Miss Garth
is a woman of business."

"Don't appeal to me, sir!" cried Mrs. Lecount,
gracefully wringing her plump white hands. "I
can't bear it! I must interfere! Let me
suggest—oh, what do you call it in English?—a
compromise. Dear Mr. Noel, you are perversely
refusing to do yourself justice; you have better
reasons than the reason you have given to Miss
Garth. You follow your honoured father's
example; you feel it due to his memory to act in
this matter as he acted before you. That is his
reason, Miss Garth—I implore you on my knees,
take that as his reason. He will do what his dear
father did; no more, no less. His dear father made
a proposal, and he himself will now make that
proposal over again. Yes, Mr. Noel, you will remember
what this poor girl says in her letter to you.
Her sister has been obliged to go out as a governess;
and she herself, in losing her fortune, has
lost the hope of her marriage for years and years
to come. You will remember this—and you will
give the hundred pounds to one, and the
hundred pounds to the other, which your admirable
father offered in the past time? If he does
this, Miss Garth, will he do enough? If he gives
a hundred pounds each to these unfortunate
sisters——?"

"He will repent the insult to the last hour of
his life," said Magdalen.

The instant that answer passed her lips, she
would have given worlds to recal it. Mrs.
Lecount had planted her sting in the right place at
last. Those rash words of Magdalen's had burst
from her passionately, in her own voice.

Nothing but the habit of public performance,
saved her from making the serious error that she
had committed more palpable still, by attempting
to set it right. Here, her past practice in the
entertainment came to her rescue, and urged her
to go on instantly, in Miss Garth's voice, as if
nothing had happened."

"You mean well, Mrs. Lecount," she
continued; "but you are doing harm instead of
good. My pupils will accept no such compromise
as you propose. I am sorry to have spoken
violently, just now; I beg you will excuse me."
She looked hard for information in the
housekeeper's face while she spoke those conciliatory
words. Mrs. Lecount baffled the look, by
putting her handkerchief to her eyes. Had she, or
had she not, noticed the momentary change in
Magdalen's voice from the tones that were
assumed to the tones that were natural?
Impossible to say.

"What more can I do!" murmured Mrs.
Lecount, behind her handkerchief. "Give me time
to think—give me time to recover myself. May
I retire, sir, for a moment? My nerves are shaken
by this sad scene. I must have a glass of water,
or I think I shall faint. Don't go yet, Miss
Garth. I beg you will give us time to set this
sad matter right, if we can—I beg you will
remain until I come back."

There were two doors of entrance to the room.
One, the door into the front parlour, close at
Magdalen's left hand. The other, the door into
the back parlour, situated behind her. Mrs.
Lecount politely retired—through the open
folding-doors—by this latter means of exit, so as
not to disturb the visitor by passing in front of
her. Magdalen waited until she heard the door
open and close again behind her; and then
resolved to make the most of the opportunity which
left her alone with Noel Vanstone. The utter
hopelessness of rousing a generous impulse in
that base nature, had now been proved by her own
experience. The last chance left was to treat
him like the craven creature he was, and to influence
him through his fears.

Before she could speak, Mr. Noel Vanstone
himself broke the silence. Cunningly as he
strove to hide it, he was half-angry, half-alarmed
at his housekeeper's desertion of him. He looked
doubtingly at his visitor; he showed a nervous
anxiety to conciliate her, until Mrs. Lecount's
return.

"Pray remember, ma'am, I never denied that
this case was a hard one," he began. "You said
just now you had no wish to offend me—and I'm
sure I don't want to offend you. May I offer
you some strawberries? Would you like to look
at my father's bargains? I assure you, ma'am,
I am naturally a gallant man; and I feel for both
these sisters—especially the younger one. Touch
me on the subject of the tender passion, and you
touch me on a weak place. Nothing would
please me more than to hear that Miss Vanstone's
lover (I'm sure I always call her Miss Vanstone,
and so does Lecount)—I say, ma'am, nothing
would please me more than to hear that Miss
Vanstone's lover had come back, and married
her. If a loan of money would be likely to bring
him back, and if the security offered was good,
and if my lawyer thought me justified—-"

"Stop, Mr. Vanstone," said Magdalen. "You
are entirely mistaken in your estimate of the
person you have to deal with. You are seriously
wrong in supposing that the marriage of the
younger sister—if she could be married in a
week's time—would make any difference in the
convictions which induced her to write to your
father and to you. I don't deny that she may
act from a mixture of motives. I don't deny
that she clings to the hope of hastening her
marriage, and to the hope of rescuing her sister
from a life of dependence. But, if both those
objects were accomplished by other means,
nothing would induce her to leave you in possession
of the inheritance which her father meant
his children to have. I know her, Mr. Vanstone!