Pension. Every new visitor was questioned by
Madame as to the relationship between the two English ladies, and never
had one of the number failed to reply "sisters," and to be convulsed
with astonishment when corrected; and in good truth Mrs Gifford was a
wonderful specimen of the prolonged youth which is a phenomenon of the
present day.

She was slight, she was graceful, her waving brown hair was as naturally
luxuriant as that of a girl, her complexion was smooth and fair, her
pretty features were unchanged, she dressed with good taste, and, though
secretly proud of her youthful looks, was never so foolish as to adopt
kittenish airs to match. Her manner was quiet, gracious, appealing; a
little air of pathos enveloped her like a mist; on strangers she made
the impression of a lovely creature who had known suffering. Everybody
was kind to Mrs Gifford, and she in return had never been known to
utter an unkind word. She had been born with the faculty of loving
everybody a little, and no one very much, which--if one comes to think
of it--is the most powerful of all factors towards securing an easy
life, since it secures the owner from the possibility of keen personal
suffering.

At the present moment Mrs Gifford did, however, look really perturbed,
for, after shutting her eyes to a disagreeable fact, and keeping them
shut with much resolution and--it must be added--ease, for many years
past, she was now driven to face the truth, and to break it to her
daughter into the bargain.

"But I don't understand!" Claire repeated blankly. "How _can_ the
money be gone? We have spent no more this year than for years past. I
should think we have spent less. I haven't been extravagant a bit. You
offered me a new hat only last week, and I said I could do without--"

"Yes, yes, of course. It's quite true, _cherie_, you have been most
good. But, you see, ours has not been a case of an income that goes on
year after year--it never was, even from the beginning. There was not
enough. And you _did_ have a good education, didn't you? I spared
nothing on it. It's folly to stint on a girl's education.--It was one
of the best schools in Paris."

"It was, mother; but we are not talking about schools. Do let us get to
the bottom of this horrid muddle! If it isn't a case of `income,' what
can it be? I'm ignorant about money, for you have always managed
business matters, but I can't see what else we can have been living
upon?"