'We are planning what we can do to earn our livelihood, Agatha,' said Elfie. 'Have you any idea to give us?'
'We will not go into that to-night,' was Agatha's quiet response. 'This house is our own, and so is the furniture. We have sufficient for the present. When Gwen has got over the fatigue of her journey, we will have a talk together about ways and means.'
Just before going to her own room for the night, Agatha stepped quietly into Gwen's room.
She found her lying wide awake staring at the flickering fire with a hard set face, and determined lips. Agatha came up and put her hand on her forehead.
'You are feverish,' she said. 'Are you comfortable? Do you not feel sleepy?'
'Would you?' was the quick retort.
'I am sure I should, after the journey you have had. Oh, Gwen dear, don't look so! There are worse losses than money. Don't reproach yourself too much.' And Agatha was so touched by the hopeless misery in her sister's face that tears filled her eyes.
Gwen looked at her, and her face began to soften.
'You're a good old thing, Agatha. I wish I were more like you. You will need all your faith and prayer now, and so will the others. Good-night.'
She turned her face away, and with a kiss and an unspoken prayer, Agatha left her.