In this case as in many others, Mrs. Villars's second thoughts triumphed. Why should she submit to her husband's pitiful economy--was it not his fault if she were forced to borrow; and she paid, or meant to pay, her sister good interest, which would atone for every thing; and, at the end of the season, no doubt the longed-for marriage would take place; and, even supposing her grateful daughter forgot to share her pin money with her, Mr. Villars could not but applaud her conduct and settle her debt; and, even if not--but she was in no humour for ifs--and a glance from the window at the rich woods which skirted the Aston estate, and a glimpse through the trees at the mansion itself, quite settled the question, and she continued twisting her spills with perfect satisfaction. Not so Mrs. Lesly, she had seated herself at her desk, indeed, and taken up her pen with a trembling hand; but her eyes were vacantly following her sister's occupation. "This will never do," thought the worldly woman; yet she was afraid to hurry her. "I was thinking," said Mrs. Lesly, at length, after continuing in the same attitude of observation, "I was thinking how very strange it was that I never remember our talking about money, but you were making spills all the time." "Why, you see," said Mrs. Villars, carelessly, "I never thought it worth while to bring my work for the short time I generally stay, and I never like to sit quite idle." "Yes; but when you stayed with me for a month, it happened then as well," said Mrs. Lesly, in a musing kind of tone. "It was rather strange, certainly--but more strange that you should remember such trifles," said Mrs. Villars, her face turning rather disagreeably pale. Poor Mrs. Lesly, fearing she had offended her, took up her pen, and wrote like a frightened child, then quickly handed her the draft. Mrs. Villars hastily rose and kissed her, and then, taking her pen from her hand, wrote a memorandum of the loan, which Mrs. Lesly placed in her work-basket. At that moment, Amy ran into the room, crying out-- "Mamma, mamma, I have cut my finger--do please give me a piece of rag, or I shall spoil my dress." Mrs. Lesly, easily frightened, hurried to her assistance, and, though Amy kept exclaiming that she was only anxious about her dress, hurried her off to a receptacle of old linen, which she kept in preparation for every accident. Mrs. Villars glanced at the paper she had just written. "How careless Annie is," thought she. "Yet she seemed suspicious just now about the spills--could she have guessed I tore up the other papers I wrote? No--impossible! It is so awkward to be pressed for money, at all sorts of times, and poor Annie is not long for this world, I see. That Mabel has a sharp eye, and would not be easily deceived. Well, it does not alter the obligation one bit, and what does it signify between sisters. I only do not wish to be hurried."