ime that panoply of sick-room armour which
made her so indomitable in her brother's bedroom. Downstairs she met
Mr Rubb, who talked to her much about her brother's affairs, and much
about the oilcloth business, speaking as though he were desirous
that the most absolute confidence should exist between him and her.
But she said no word of her promise to her brother, except that she
declared that the money lent was now to be regarded as a present made
by her to him personally.

"I am afraid that that will avail nothing," said Mr Rubb, junior,
"for the amount now stands as a debt due by the firm to you, and the
firm, which would pay you the money if it could, cannot pay it to
your brother's estate any more than it can to yours."

"But the interest," said Miss Mackenzie.

"Oh, yes! the interest can be paid," said Mr Rubb, junior, but the
tone of his voice did not give much promise that this interest would
be forthcoming with punctuality.

She watched again that night; and on the next day, in the afternoon,
she was told that a gentleman wished to see her in the drawing-room.
Her thoughts at once pointed to Mr Maguire, and she went downstairs
prepared to be very angry with that gentleman. But on entering the
room she found her cousin, John Ball. She was, in truth, glad to see
him; for, after all, she thought that she liked him the best of all
the men or women that she knew. He was always in trouble, but then
she fancied that with him she at any rate knew the worst. There was
nothing concealed with him,--nothing to be afraid of. She hoped that
they might continue to know each other intimately as cousins. Under
existing circumstances they could not, of course, be anything more to
each other than that.

"This is very kind of you, John," she said, taking his hand. "How did
you know I was here?"

"Mr Slow told me. I was with Mr Slow about business of yours. I'm
afraid from what I hear that you find your brother very ill."

"Very ill, indeed, John,--ill to death."

She then asked after her uncle and aunt, and the children, at the
Cedars.

They were much as usual, he said; and he added that his mother would
be very glad to see her at the Cedars; only he supposed there was no
hope of that.

"Not just at present, John. You see I am wholly occupied here."

"And will he really die, do you think?"

"The doctors say so."

"And his wife and children--will they be provided for?"

Margaret simply shook her head, and John Ba