Clementina's eyes were swimming with tears; but she would not give way. In passive endurance she excelled her sister.
She held her arms clapped closely round her; whilst Ella poured a torrent of tears upon her bosom.
"My father! my beautiful, clever, indulgent father, that I was so proud of—that I loved so—who spared nothing upon either of us—alas! alas! how little, little did I guess whence the money came!"
Clementina trembled and shivered as her sister poured forth these passionate lamentations; but she neither wept nor spoke for some time. At last she said:
"Ella, I have been uneasy about things for some time. We are young, and we have not much experience in the ways of the world; but since our poor mother died, and I have had in some degree to manage the house, I have been every day becoming more uncomfortable."
"You have?" said Ella, lifting up her head: "and you never told me!"
"Why should I have told you? why should I have disturbed your dream of happiness, my dear Ella? Besides, I hoped that it concerned me alone—that things might hold on a little while longer—at least, till you were provided for, and safe."
"Safe! and what was to become of you?"
"I did not much think of that. I had a firm friend, I knew, in you, Ella; and then, lately, since mamma's death; since you have been engaged to dear Lionel, and I have been much alone, I have thought of old things—old things that good Matty used to talk about. I have been endeavoring to look beyond myself, and this world; and it has strengthened me."
"You are an excellent creature, Cle.!"