“Jog on, jog on the footpath way,
And merrily hent the stile—a.
A merry heart goes all the way,
Your sad tires in a mile—a.”
She was about to begin it for the second time, when she saw Honor sitting on the sofa in the bay-window. Her very attitude appeared depressed, for she was leaning her head on her hand, as her elbow rested on the back of the sofa, and she idly swung one foot to and fro.
“It is just perfect out,” said Victoria, coming into the room. A bright color glowed in her cheeks, and her voice was gay and exhilarated from her walk in the fresh air. “It is growing colder, and there is a snap about everything. Have you been out, Honor?”
“No.”
“Not all day? Oh, put on your things and come out for a walk! It is just the afternoon for it.”
“No,” said Honor, “I am waiting for you and Katherine. I don’t know where she can be.”
“What do you want us for?” asked Victoria, feeling a pang of something like depression, her sister’s tone was so dreary.
“I want to talk things over, and here comes Katherine at last. I thought you were never coming. Where have you been, Katherine? Indeed, somebody must suggest some way of getting money at once. Those bills are weighing upon me.”
“There is a way,” said Victoria, taking the other corner of the sofa, while Katherine threw herself into an arm-chair. “There is a way, but I suppose you will both be perfectly horrified if I even suggest it.”
“What is it?” asked her sisters.