Grace, in reply, wept and wondered at the request, bemoaned the inexorableness of the law, and was astonished that Lily had not realized the exact similarity of their positions. Did she think that only the payment of the legacies had been delayed? Why, Miss Stepney herself had not received a penny of her inheritance, and was paying rent—yes, actually!—for the privilege of living in a house that belonged to her. She was sure it was not what poor dear cousin Julia would have wished—she had told the executors so to their faces; but they were inaccessible to reason, and there was nothing to do but to wait. Let Lily take example by her, and be patient—let them both remember how beautifully patient cousin Julia had always been. Lily made a movement which showed her imperfect assimilation of this example. “But you will have everything, Grace—it would be easy for you to borrow ten times the amount I am asking for.” “Borrow—easy for me to borrow?” Grace Stepney rose up before her in sable wrath. “Do you imagine for a moment that I would raise money on my expectations from cousin Julia, when I know so well her unspeakable horror of every transaction of the sort? Why, Lily, if you must know the truth, it was the idea of your being in debt that brought on her illness—you remember she had a slight attack before you sailed. Oh, I don’t know the particulars, of course—I don’t WANT to know them—but there were rumours about your affairs that made her most unhappy—no one could be with her without seeing that. I can’t help it if you are offended by my telling you this now—if I can do anything to make you realize the folly of your course, and how deeply SHE disapproved of it, I shall feel it is the truest way of making up to you for her loss.” Chapter 5 It seemed to Lily, as Mrs. Peniston’s door closed on her, that she was taking a final leave of her old life. The future stretched before her dull and bare as the deserted length of Fifth Avenue, and opportunities showed as meagrely as the few cabs trailing in quest of fares that did not come. The completeness of the analogy was, however, disturbed as she reached the sidewalk by the rapid approach of a hansom which pulled up at sight of her. From beneath its luggage-laden top, she caught the wave of a signalling hand; and the next moment Mrs. Fisher, springing to the street, had folded her in a demonstrative embrace. “My dear, you don’t mean to say you’re still in town? When I saw you the other day at Sherry’s I didn’t have time to ask——” She broke off, and added with a burst of frankness: “The truth is I was HORRID, Lily, and I’ve wanted to tell you so ever since.”