"Gone out somewhere. You know that money you let me have to pay the horrible bill I couldn't sleep for, and didn't dare to give to Gerald," she continued, putting up her hands to her little distressed face. "I've got something to tell you about it." Hamish was at a loss. The bills he and his wife had advanced money for were getting numerous. Winny, rocking herself gently, saw he did not recollect. "It was for the shoes and stockings for the children and the boots for me; we had nothing to our feet. Ellen brought me the money last Saturday--three pounds--though the bill was not quite that. Well, Gerald saw the sovereigns lying in the dressing-table drawer--it was so stupid of me to leave them there!--and he took them. First he asked me where I'd got them from; I said I had scraped them up to pay for the children's shoes. Upon that, he put them in his pocket, saying he had bills far more pressing than children's shoe bills, and must take them for his own use. O-o-o-o-o-oh!" concluded the young wife, with a burst of her childish grief, "I am very miserable." "You should have told your husband the money belonged to Mrs. Channing--and was given to you by her for a special purpose." "Good gracious!" cried Winny, astonishment arresting the tears in her pretty eyes. "As if I would dare to tell him that! If Gerald thought you or Ellen helped me, he would be in the worst passion of all. I'm not sure but he'd beat me." "Why?" "He would think that I was running up a great debt on my own score for him to pay back sometime. And he has such oceans of pride, besides. You must never tell him, Mr. Channing." "How does he think the accounts get paid?" asked Hamish. "He does not think about it," she answered, eagerly. "So long as he is not bothered, he _won't_ be bothered. He will never look at a single bill, or hear me speak of one. As far as he knows, the people and Miss Cook come and worry me for money regularly. But oh! Mr. Channing! if I were to be worried to any degree, I should die. I should wish to die, for I could not bear it. Ellen knows I could not." Yes; in a degree, Hamish and his wife both knew this. Winny Yorke was quite unfitted to battle with the storms of the world; they could not see her breasting them, and not help. A brother of hers--and Gerald was aware of this--who had been overwhelmed with the like, proved how ill he was fitted to bear, by putting a terrible end to them and all else. "And so, that bill for the shoes and stockings was not paid, and they came after it today, and abused Gerald--for I had said to them it would be ready money," pursued Winny, rocking away. "Oh, he was so angry! he forbid me to buy shoes; he said the children must go barefoot until he was in a better position. If the man comes tomorrow, and insists on seeing me, I shall have to run away. And Fredy's ill." The wind-up was rather unexpected, and given in a different tone. Fredy was the eldest of the little girls, Kitty the second, Rosy the third.