"Do you not remember? Mr. Drayton told me you made a great point of it--that you asked him to settle something on her--that in the event of his death she should be provided for." Margaret did remember it now with a hot blush of shame. Yes, it had been part of her bargain. "How much is there?" she asked in a low voice. Mr. Stevens looked at her in surprise. "There are fifteen thousand pounds; the life interest is left to you only; the money becomes hers at your death. You see, therefore, you cannot alienate this sum. You cannot give it away." "I am sure my sister will think with me...." she began, and then stopped suddenly; she had a conviction that Grace would think very differently. "I do not know if you can enter into my feeling about Mr. Drayton's money," she said, hurriedly. "It is no whim, no distaste for the comforts and luxuries of life, but I cannot!" she continued, with a tone of passion surprising to him in one usually so quiet and impassive before him. A great sob broke her voice. She felt ashamed of betraying emotion before one she conceived to be unsympathetic, and in a moment or two she checked all signs of it, and said in a calmer tone: "I trust my sister will see all this as I do." "I do not think she will," said Mr. Stevens, who felt intensely for her, and who liked her better than he had ever thought possible. "But I do not think that her action in the matter need disturb you, people are so differently constituted. I myself fully appreciate your feeling in the matter; it is honourable to you, if you will allow me to say so." "I am so glad you understand," said Margaret, simply. "I have been afraid that you could not approve...." She stopped short, afraid of again breaking down; and then, in a calmer voice, turned to the subject of those scenes she had so lately visited, and the wants of the poor children she was so interested in. He was more and more charmed with her; here was no high-flown nonsense, no exaggerated sentiment, but all her schemes were practical and full of common sense. He stayed long, then he said, "The only thing to be settled now is, whether the interest from the fifteen thousand pounds you will have nothing to do with is to be applied to charitable purposes or paid to your sister?" "I will write to you." "Do; and Mrs. Dorriman, do you know, is trusting to me to see you safe through the perils of your long journey." "But it will give you so much trouble." "Not at all;" he spoke in such a kind tone that Margaret felt she had gained him as a friend. "Dear Mrs. Dorriman," she said softly, "what a lesson she is to us all; so unselfish and so perfectly unconscious of all her own virtues!"