ee I was
so anxious to keep within my income, that I resolved to leave five
pounds seventeen shillings and two-pence for contingencies. But how
does the case actually stand?" Here poor Mrs Tipps pointed indignantly
to her account-book, and to a pile of papers that lay before her, as if
they were the guilty cause of all her troubles. "How does it stand?
The whole two hundred and fifty pounds seventeen shillings spent--only
the two-pence left--and accounts to tradesmen, amounting to fifty
pounds, remaining unpaid!"

"And have we _nothing_ left to pay them?" asked Netta, in some anxiety.

"Nothing, my love," replied Mrs Tipps, with a perplexed look, "except,"
she added, after a moment's thought, "the tuppence!"

The poor lady whimpered as she said this, seeing which Netta burst into
tears; whereupon her mother sprang up, scattered the accounts right and
left, and blaming herself for having spoken on these disagreeable
subjects at all, threw her arms round Netta's neck and hugged her.

"Don't think me foolish, mamma," said Netta, drying her eyes in a
moment; "really it almost makes me laugh to think that _I_ should ever
come to cry so easily; but you know illness does weaken one so, that
sometimes, in spite of myself, I feel inclined to cry. But don't mind
me; there, it's past now. Let us resume our business talk."

"Indeed I will not," protested Mrs Tipps.

"Then I will call nurse, and go into the subject with her," said Netta.

"Don't be foolish, dear."

"Well, then, go on with it, mamma. Tell me, now, is there nothing that
we could sell?"

"Nothing. To be sure there is my gold watch, but that would not fetch
more than a few pounds; and my wedding-ring, which I would sooner die
than part with."

Netta glanced, as she spoke, at an unusually superb diamond ring, of
Eastern manufacture, which adorned her own delicate hand. It was her
father's last gift to her a few days before he died.

"What are you thinking of, darling?" inquired Mrs Tipps.

"Of many things," replied Netta slowly. "It is not easy to tell you
exactly what--"

Here she was saved the necessity of further explanation by the entrance
of Joseph Tipps, who, after kissing his mother and sister heartily,
threw his hat and gloves into a corner, and, rubbing his hands together
as he sat down, inquired if Edwin Gurwood had been there.

"No, we have neither seen nor heard of him," said Netta.

"Then you shall have him to luncheon in half-an-h