It was a phrase frequently on her lips, and always made her more cheerful. Virginia also seemed to welcome it as an encouragement.
“Mine,” said the companion, “is almost as serious as it could be. I have only one pound left, with the exception of the dividend.”
“I have rather more than four pounds still. Now, let us think,” Alice paused. “Supposing we neither of us obtain employment before the end of this year. We have to live, in that case, more than six months—you on seven pounds, and I on ten.”
“It’s impossible,” said Virginia.
“Let us see. Put it in another form. We have both to live together on seventeen pounds. That is—” she made a computation on a piece of paper—“that is two pounds, sixteen shillings and eightpence a month—let us suppose this month at an end. That represents fourteen shillings and twopence a week. Yes, we can do it!”
She laid down her pencil with an air of triumph. Her dull eyes brightened as though she had discovered a new source of income.
“We cannot, dear,” urged Virginia in a subdued voice. “Seven shillings rent; that leaves only seven and twopence a week for everything—everything.”
“We could do it, dear,” persisted the other. “If it came to the very worst, our food need not cost more than sixpence a day—three and sixpence a week. I do really believe, Virgie, we could support life on less—say, on fourpence. Yes, we could dear!”
They looked fixedly at each other, like people about to stake everything on their courage.
“Is such a life worthy of the name?” asked Virginia in tones of awe.