She broke off. What was she doing? The affair that was to bring her comparative ease, to keep her from starvation, was well in train. Should she herself stop it? She reflected that Virginia was not accepting definitely--only promising to consider the matter. Let things take their course. She believed the girl had some sentimental school-girl fancy about Osbert! Yes, she had thought that from the first. She was wasting her compassion, her delicate feeling. After all, considering Virgie's beauty, was it likely that Gaunt would be cruel to her? With a feeling almost like hatred she studied the pure outline of the profile, the effect of the sunlight glinting through the brown-gold hair, the curve of the chin, the slimness of the young, drooping body, veiled in its blue overall. "Oh, do as you like!" she cried, "send your letter; but talk as little as you can to me about it! How do you suppose I like being told that you are sacrificing yourself for me? I can go to the workhouse in the last resort, like other people." "Perhaps. But Pansy can't," said Virginia, a trifle rigidly. She took up the tray and disappeared. * * * * * The day dragged by. To Virginia it seemed as if it would never end, and yet as if it were passing like a sigh. She felt as those who have been in a sinking ship have described themselves as feeling when the wave rose above the gunwale, and seemed to hesitate--to pause awfully--before it burst. Pansy was very insistently eager to know what had passed between mamma and Mr. Gaunt the previous day. It was hard to stave off her pertinacious inquiry, but Virgie was able to tell her that negotiations were going on which might, or might not, lead to something. To-morrow would bring more news. Thus the dawn broke upon the fatal day--a day of persistent fine rain which did nothing to abate the heat. At about ten o'clock the loud imperative knock of a telegraph boy sounded upon the little door. Virginia took in the message. It was from Gaunt, and ran thus-- _Please reply definitely to business offer, which otherwise is off._ The girl sat down, with knees shaking, staring at the message, which was reply paid. The boy waited whistling in the little entrance passage. Should she give the definite answer demanded? Could she face the knowledge that all hope was over? She would not show her mother the despotic telegram. She knew that she must answer it for herself. Taking a pencil she wrote: _Definite reply impossible till after visit. May we expect you?_ She prepaid the reply to this, dismissed the boy, and walked into the kitchen with limbs shaking. She felt as if she had defied the robber chief who was holding them all to ransom.