"I know that I never thought to do so, Ann, but circumstances alter cases," answered the elder sister. Both of them had dropped their voices to a low key, not to disturb the letter-writer. But he could hear if he chose to listen. "I began putting my things together yesterday, and shall finish doing it at leisure. I will stay over Easter with you; but go then I shall." "You must be cruel to think of such a thing, Lavinia." "Not cruel," corrected Lavinia. "I am sorry, Ann, but the step is forced upon me. The anxieties in regard to money matters are wearing me out; they would wear me out altogether if I did not end them. And there are other things which urge upon me the expediency of departure from this house." "What things?" "I cannot speak of them. Never mind what they are, Ann. They concern myself; not you." Ann Fennel sat twirling one of her fair silken ringlets between her thumb and finger; a habit of hers when thinking. "Where shall you live, Lavinia, if you do leave? Take another apartment at Sainteville?" "I think not. It is a puzzling question. Possibly I may go back to Buttermead, and get some family to take me in as a boarder," dreamily answered Lavinia. "Seventy pounds a-year will not keep me luxuriously." Captain Fennel lifted his face. "If it will not keep one, how is it to keep two?" he demanded, in rather defiant tones. "I don't know anything about that," said Lavinia civilly. "I have not two to keep; only one." Nancy chanced to catch a glimpse of his face just then, and its look frightened her. Lavinia had her back to him, and did not see it. Nancy began to cry quietly. "Oh, Lavinia, you will think better of this; you will not leave us!" she implored. "We could not do at all without you and your half of the money." Lavinia had finished her collar, and rose to take it upstairs. "Don't be distressed, Nancy," she paused to say; "it is a thing that _must be_. I am very sorry; but it is not my fault. As you----" "You can stay in the house if you choose!" flashed Nancy, growing feebly angry. "No, I cannot. I _cannot_," repeated Lavinia. "I begin to foresee that I might--might die of it." XI. Sainteville felt surprised and sorry to hear that Miss Preen was going to leave it to its own devices, for the town had grown to like her. Lavinia did not herself talk about going, but the news somehow got wind. People wondered why she went. Matters, as connected with the financial department of the Petite Maison Rouge, were known but imperfectly--to most people not known at all; so that reason was not thought of. It was quite understood that Ann Preen's stolen marriage, capped by the bringing home of her husband to the Petite Maison Rouge, had been a sharp blow to Miss Preen: perhaps, said Sainteville now, she had tried living with them and found it did not answer. Or perhaps she was only going away for a change, and would return after a while.