Helen burst into tears. But Lady Davenant, unmoved, at least to all outward appearance, coldly said, “It is not feeling that you want, or that I require from you; I am not to be satisfied by words or tears.” “I deserve it all,” said Helen; “and I know you are not cruel. In the midst of all this, I know you are my best friend.” Lady Davenant was now obliged to be silent, lest her voice should betray more tenderness than her countenance chose to show. “Only tell me what I can do now,” continued Helen; “what can I do?” “What you CAN do, I will tell you, Helen. Who was the man you were dancing with last night?” “I danced with several; which do you mean?” “Your partner in the quadrille you were dancing when I came in.” “Lord Estridge: but you know him--he has been often here.” “Is he rich?” said Lady Davenant. “Oh yes, very rich, and very self-sufficient: he is the man Cecilia used to call ‘_Le prince de mon mérite._’” “Did she? I do not remember. He made no impression on me, nor on you, I dare say.” “Not the least, indeed.” “No matter, he will do as well as another, since he is rich. You can marry him, and pay your present debts, and contract new, for thousands instead of hundreds:--this is what you CAN do, Helen.” “Do you think I can?” said Helen. “You can, I suppose, as well as others. You know that young ladies often marry to pay their debts?” “So I once heard,” said Helen, “but is it possible?” “Quite. You might have been told more--that they enter into regular partnerships, joint-stock companies with dress-makers and jewellers, who make their ventures and bargains on the more or less reputation of the young ladies for beauty or for fashion, supply them with finery, speculate on their probabilities of matrimonial success, and trust to being repaid after marriage. Why not pursue this plan next season in town? You must come to it like others, whose example you follow--why not begin it immediately?” There is nothing so reassuring to the conscience as to hear, in the midst of blame that we do deserve, suppositions of faults, imputations which we know to be unmerited--impossible. Instead of being hurt or alarmed by what Lady Davenant had said, the whole idea appeared to Helen so utterly beneath her notice, that the words made scarcely any impression on her mind, and her thoughts went earnestly back to the pressing main question--“What can I do, honestly to pay this money that I owe?” She abruptly asked Lady Davenant if she thought the jeweller could be prevailed upon to take back the sapphires and the brooch? “Certainly not, without a considerable loss to you,” replied Lady Davenant; but with an obvious change for the better in her countenance, she added, “Still the determination to give up the bauble is good; the means, at whatever loss, we will contrive for you, if you are determined.”