Presently the front door opened, and Victoria walked in. She was singing, to a tune of her own invention, her favorite quotation from Shakespeare: “Jog on, jog on the footpath way, And merrily hent the stile—a. A merry heart goes all the way, Your sad tires in a mile—a.” She was about to begin it for the second time, when she saw Honor sitting on the sofa in the bay-window. Her very attitude appeared depressed, for she was leaning her head on her hand, as her elbow rested on the back of the sofa, and she idly swung one foot to and fro. “It is just perfect out,” said Victoria, coming into the room. A bright color glowed in her cheeks, and her voice was gay and exhilarated from her walk in the fresh air. “It is growing colder, and there is a snap about everything. Have you been out, Honor?” “No.” “Not all day? Oh, put on your things and come out for a walk! It is just the afternoon for it.” “No,” said Honor, “I am waiting for you and Katherine. I don’t know where she can be.” “What do you want us for?” asked Victoria, feeling a pang of something like depression, her sister’s tone was so dreary. “I want to talk things over, and here comes Katherine at last. I thought you were never coming. Where have you been, Katherine? Indeed, somebody must suggest some way of getting money at once. Those bills are weighing upon me.” “There is a way,” said Victoria, taking the other corner of the sofa, while Katherine threw herself into an arm-chair. “There is a way, but I suppose you will both be perfectly horrified if I even suggest it.” “What is it?” asked her sisters. “Will you promise not to exclaim?” “It couldn’t possibly surprise us after your other suggestions,” remarked Katherine, gloomily. “I shall be quite resigned, even if you tell us we are to live on bread and water and wear ready-made clothes at five dollars a suit.” “We might do worse,” said Victoria, “but this is quite different. We have so many things” (she looked about the room as she spoke), “why—indeed, girls, I scarcely dare say it—why can’t we sell something?” There was a moment of silence. Honor was the first to find her voice. “Sell something!” she exclaimed. “Sell what?” “Oh, a picture or two, or some books, or a piece of silver. Or isn’t there any jewelry?” “Why, Victoria, you can’t really mean it?” cried Katherine, in an incredulous voice. “I can’t think that you really mean it.” “Sell our family heirlooms?” exclaimed Honor, starting to her feet and gazing at her younger sister with the air of a tragedy queen. “Sell the books and the pictures that father collected with so much pride? Sell the silver which belonged to our great-great-grandmother? Victoria, are you perfectly crazy?”