Marguerite looked at her sister in surprise.
"You need not look that way, Madge, I mean it, and when you have—" Mrs. Arnold checked herself. She was on the eve of a declaration which she must at all hazards supress. "I say it is most cruel of mamma to treat me in the way that she does. Really, Madge, it makes me feel terribly; and oh! poor, dear, papa! I don't know why it should affect me so strangely, but really, Madge, I cannot get it out of my head but that papa is going to die."
"Oh, Eve!" cried Marguerite, clinging to her chair for support, "pray do not say such a dreadful thing."
"Well, you know, Madge, that grief will sap all the vitality of stronger constitutions than papa's."
Mrs. Arnold sat watching the effect of her words upon her sister, and tried to be engaged assorting some letters that had been misplaced in her desk.
"If it were only in my power to save papa such trouble I would make any sacrifice," cried the latter, suddenly glancing at Marguerite.
"And would I not, too? Oh! Eve," said the girl, with an eager, hungry look upon her face.
"You can now, if you wish, Madge," said Mrs. Arnold, in the coolest possible manner.
"Eve, this is too serious a matter for jesting. You know not what you say," cried Marguerite, wildly.
"I know that you can pay every cent of papa's debts if you will only marry Hubert Tracy!"