‘Oh, dear Hilda!’ cried the girl, embracing me warmly. ‘We should never have called it by a name like that! Ange and I thought that as you were the child of one of papa’s dearest friends, it was the most natural thing in the world that when you were orphaned you should come to live with us and be our sister. We never asked if you had money or not. Our only anxiety was that you should love us.’ ‘It is true nevertheless, dear Tessie. My noble income consists of one hundred and fifty pounds a year, and of that Mr. Lovett agreed with Mr. Warrington, my solicitor, to allow me fifty pounds for my private expenses, and to retain the remainder as payment for my board and lodging in St. Pucelle.’ ‘And—and—have you had your allowance, Hilda?’ asked Tessie, anxiously. ‘No, dear, I have not, I am sorry to say. After much persuasion, your father has given me twenty-five francs to repay Mrs. Carolus for Ange’s earrings, but for the rest of my pocket-money I expect I may do what is vulgarly termed _whistle_.’ She flung herself in my arms in a fresh burst of tears. ‘Oh, Hilda! don’t love Ange and me less because of this. We have grown so fond of you. We feel just as if you were our sister. Don’t turn against us—it isn’t our fault, dear—we would cut off our right hands to serve you if we could.’ I assured her again and again that I would never be less her friend and her sister’s friend than I was at that moment. ‘I love you too, Tessie—rest sure of that, and we will fight this great trouble out together if we can. I will not turn against you, nor will I forsake you. My lot has not been so unexpectedly cast here without some good reason, and I should feel like a coward if I could run away just as I have heard all, and leave you and Ange to cope with this misery by yourselves.’ ‘But remember, she knows nothing,’ said Tessie, with the same anxious tone as before. ‘I do remember it,’ I answered, and I thought at the same moment, that it was a great pity the little maid had been kept in such ignorance. It was blissful ignorance in the present, but if the awakening came suddenly, it might be very terrible in the future. But I felt that by the foregoing conversation I had bound myself to cleave to the fortunes of these girls until I could do them no further good. Poor patient Tessie, carrying her heavy burthen of disgrace alone, and lighthearted, unconscious Ange, dancing along the path of life as gaily as if it were all flowers and hid no secret mine which might explode at any moment and devastate her whole young, fresh existence: I could not tell which of the two I loved the more, nor which I could have the heart to forsake the sooner. [Illustration: [Fleuron]] CHAPTER IX. CHARLIE.