The letter fell from my hands, and I sat in blank despair. Five thousand pounds is a small sum to many people, to others it is as impossible and as unget-at-able as the moon. We, when our debts were paid, would have nothing at all to live on except the annuity which my mother received from the Government, and a small sum of fifty pounds a year.
I began dismally to consider what rent we must pay for the awful cottage in the country, and to what part of the country it would be best to retire, when Paul came into the room and presented me with a card.
"There's a lady—a person, I mean—downstairs, and she wants to see you, Miss."
I took the card and read the name—Miss Jane Mullins.
"Who is she?" I asked; "I don't know her."
"She's a sort of betwixt and between, Miss. I showed her into the li'bry. I said you was most likely engaged, but that I would inquire."
"Miss Jane Mullins." I read the name aloud. "Show her up, Paul," I said then.
"Oh, my dear West, what do you mean?" said mother; "that sort of person has probably called to beg."
"She may as well beg in the drawing-room as anywhere else," I said. "I have rather taken a fancy to her name—Jane Mullins."