"It is not known yet, exactly," answered Lucy, hastily, "but Mr. Devonshire and our father's lawyer, and, I thought, uncle Septimus, are going into the matter after the sale."
"So your uncle tells me. He tells me also that there will be next to nothing for you girls. Have you made up your minds what you are going to do? Which of you goes out to the Sebastian Lorimers? I hear they have telegraphed for two. I should say Fanny and Phyllis had better go; the others are better able to look after themselves."
Silence; but not in the least disconcerted, Aunt Caroline went on.
"It is a pity that none of you has married; girls don't seem to marry in these days!" (with some complacency, the well-disciplined, well-dowered daughters of the house of Pratt being in the habit of "going off" in due order and season) "but India works wonders sometimes in that respect."
"Oh, let me go to India, Gerty!" cried Phyllis, in a very audible aside, while Gertrude bent her head and bit her lip, controlling the desire to laugh hysterically, which the naïve character of her aunt's last remark had excited.
"Now, Gertrude and Lucy," continued the speaker, "I am empowered by your uncle" (poor Septimus!) "to offer you a home for as long as you like. Either as a permanency, or until you have found suitable occupations."
"We are in India, Fan, that's why there is no mention of us," whispered naughty Phyllis.
"Aunt Caroline," broke in Gertrude, suddenly, lifting her head and speaking with great decision. "You are very kind, and we thank you. But we contemplate other arrangements."
"My dear Gertrude, other arrangements! And what 'arrangements,' pray, do you 'contemplate'?"
"Fanny, Lucy, Phyllis, shall I tell Aunt Caroline?"