dropped her knife and fork and sprang to her feet, exclaiming:--

"I'm going to see the duchess! Thank you, cousin Ned! I'll be a maid of
honor!"

"Of course--beauty!" observed Sarah, resuming her supper with a dry
laugh.

"Your sister can win on the terms offered, if anyone can," said I,
turning sharply on Sarah.

"I am sure of it," returned Sarah. "I laughed only because _she_ is so
sure."

Frances then turned to her sister, not reproachfully but earnestly:
"Sure?" she exclaimed. "Of course I am sure. I know myself. You have a
far better mind than mine, but I have--well, I know what I have. I don't
believe I am vain, but I know, sister, that you and I must rebuild the
fortunes of our house, or worse will come to us than we have ever known.
You are sure to do your part because you have intellect--brains. _You_
know you have. Is it any less a matter of vanity for you to know yourself
than it is for me to know myself? I know what I have, and I intend to use
it."

Sarah assented by the monosyllable, "Right!" while Frances ran to the
head of the table, knelt by her father's chair, and said:--

"It is all for dear old father's sake."

Sir Richard brought his daughter's head to his shoulder, affectionately
smoothed her hair for a moment, and spoke with quavering earnestness:--

"It is not to be thought of one moment. Whitehall is a nest of infamy,
and the king, I am told, is the worst man in it. I gave all I had to his
martyred father, and now the son does not even so much as refuse to make
restitution. He simply gives lying promises and leaves me to starve. I am
surprised, nephew, that you come to us with this proposition."

"In that case, dear uncle, it shall be dropped at once," said I,
expecting, however, to take it up at another time.

Frances was about to insist, but a glance from Sarah stopped her, and she
remained silent. I knew it would require a great deal of sound argument
to bring Sir Richard to our way of thinking, but I was sure that Sarah
could soften him and that, at the right time, I could finish our helpless
antagonist. Meantime the love affair of Frances, if there was one, should
be looked into, if Frances did not object too seriously. In truth, I was
a very busy man, solely with the affairs of other people.

Being so engaged in telling of other people's affairs, I have not had
time to mention the fact that I had a love affair of my own, that is, if
I may call that a love affair which involve