"Your aunt has your money, you say—how is that?"
"Why, mamma lent it to her, at different times, when she so warmly promised a home for us; but then, unfortunately, my dear mamma lost the written promise to repay it, which she had for the money; but then, that makes no difference between relations—a debt of honor must be binding; only I am uncomfortable about asking for the money, as my aunt would find it difficult to get such a large sum, I fear. And this is another reason which has kept me so passive."
"You were not once so unsuspicious," said Hargrave, "as to think a debt of honor as good as a security."
"No; but then I had those to care for who made me feel as cautious as a man. Once more, I am a weak woman. But what do you think of my plan?"
"I think it a very good one, if you can get your money, but private security is always bad, and you have not even that. Do you consider to what a life you are dooming yourself."
"Not so bad as thousands, for, remember, I shall confer, as well as receive a benefit, for my friend cannot afford a governess, and is too unwell to educate her children herself. So I shall place her under a slight obligation."
"And doom yourself to a life of drudgery."
"Be quiet," said she, raising her whip playfully, "you ought to inspirit, and not discourage me—you should speak of the advantages of such a situation, of the influence it affords—of, in short, any thing but what you are talking of."
"You are a strange girl, Mabel," he said, looking steadily down upon her glowing face, "were I you, I should be rebelling, proud, or grovelling in despair."