“It is all I have to say,” said Mr. Brownlow, gravely; and he too turned round, and the two made a solemn march homeward, with scarcely any talk. This is how Jack’s story was told. He had not thought of doing it, and he had found little comfort and encouragement in the disclosure; but still it was made, and that was so much gained. The lights were beginning to be extinguished in the windows, so late and long had been their discussion. But as they came up, Sara became visible at the window of her own room, which opened upon a balcony. She had come to look for them in her pretty white dressing-gown, with all her wealth of hair streaming over her shoulders. It was a very familiar sort of apparel, but still, to be sure, it was only her father and her brother who were witnesses of her little exhibition. “Papa, I could not wait for you,” she cried, leaning over the balcony, “I couldn’t keep Angelique sitting up. Come and say good-night.” When Mr. Brownlow went in to obey her, Jack stood still and pondered. There was a difference. Sara would be permitted to make any marriage she pleased--even with a clerk in his father’s office; whereas her brother, who ought to have been the principal--However, to do him justice, there was no grudge in Jack’s heart. He scorned to be envious of his sister. “Sara will have it all her own way,” he said to himself a little ruefully, as he lighted his candle and went up the great staircase; and then it occurred to him to wonder what she would do about Pamela. Already he felt himself superseded. It was his to take the clerk’s income and subside into inferiority, and Sara was to be the queen of Brownlows--as indeed she had always been. CHAPTER XXVII. SARA’S OWN AFFAIRS.