ve no one to look to, I expect, but myself."

"They won't want much," said Jan; "just a trifle for their bonnets and
shoes, and suchlike. I shall pay the house-bills, you know. In fact, I'd
as soon give them enough for their clothes, as not. I dare say I should
have it, even the first year, after paying expenses and old West's five
hundred."

It was hopeless to contend with Jan upon the subject of money,
especially when it was _his_ money. Lionel said no more. But he had not
the slightest doubt it would end in Jan's house being saddled with the
Misses West; and that help for them from Dr. West would never come.

Miss West herself was thinking the same--that help from her father never
would come.

This conversation between Jan and Lionel had taken place at Verner's
Pride, in the afternoon subsequent to the arrival of Dr. West's letter.
Deborah West had also received one from her father. She learned by it
that he was about to retire from the partnership, and that Mr. Jan
Verner would carry on the practice alone. The doctor intimated that she
and Amilly would continue to live on in the house with Mr. Jan's
permission, whom he had asked to afford them house-room; and he more
loudly promised to transmit them one hundred pounds per annum, in stated
payments, as might be convenient to him.

The letter was read three times over by both sisters. Amilly did not
like it, but upon Deborah it made a painfully deep impression. Poor
ladies! Since the discovery of the codicil they had gone about Deerham
with veils over their faces and their heads down, inclined to think that
lots in this world were dealt out all too unequally.

At the very time that Jan was at Verner's Pride that afternoon, Deborah
sat alone in the dining-room, pondering over the future. Since the
finding of the codicil, neither of the sisters had cared to seat
themselves in state in the drawing-room, ready to receive visitors,
should they call. They had no heart for it. They chose, rather, to sit
in plain attire, and hide themselves in the humblest and most retired
apartment. They took no pride now in anointing their scanty curls with
castor oil, in contriving for their dress, in setting off their persons.
Vanity seemed to have gone out for Deborah and Amilly West.

Deborah sat there in the dining-room, her hair looking grievously thin,
her morning dress of black print with white spots upon it not changed
for the old turned black silk of the afternoon. Her elbo