"It is extremely valuable lace; are you aware of it?" The tone was
reproachful, but Hildegarde preserved a quiet mind.

"Yes, I know it is valuable!" she said. "Old Mr. Aytoun left all his
personal property to Mamma, you know, Aunt Emily; there was a great deal
of lace, some of it very fine indeed; this is a small piece that went
with some broad flounces. Beautiful flounces they are!"

Mrs. Delansing's eyes lightened, and her fingers moved nervously. Lace
was one of her few passions, and she could not see it, or even hear of
it, unmoved.

"And what does your mother propose to do with all this lace?" she asked.
"She cannot wear it herself, in the wilderness that she chooses to live
in."

"Oh, she keeps it!" said Hildegarde. "It is delightful to have good
lace, don't you think so? even if you don't wear it. And when either of
us wants a bit to put on a gown,--like this, for example,--why, there it
is, all ready."

"It seems wanton; it seems almost criminal," said Mrs. Delansing, with
energy, "to keep valuable lace shut up in a mouldering country-house.
I--it distresses me to think of it. I shall feel it a point of duty to
write to your mother."

Hildegarde wondered what her aunt would feel it her duty to say. It was
hardly her mother's fault that the lace had been left to her; it seemed
even doubtful whether she should be expected to mould her life upon the
lines of lace; but this seemed an unsafe point to suggest.

"That is very beautiful lace on your dress, Aunt Emily!" said this wily
young woman.

Mrs. Delansing's brow smoothed, and she looked down with a shade of
complacency. "Yes, this is good," she said. "This is very good. Your
grandfather,--I should say your great-uncle, bought this lace for me in
Brussels. It is peculiarly fine, you may perceive. The young woman who
made it lost her eyesight in consequence."

"Oh, how dreadful!" cried Hildegarde. "How could you--" "How could you
bear to wear it?" was what she was going to say, but she checked
herself, and the old lady went on, placidly.

"Your great-uncle paid something more than the price asked on that
account. He thought something more was due; he was a man of great
benevolence. This is point lace."

"Yes," said Hildegarde, "Point d'Alencon; I never saw a more delicate
piece."

"Ah! you know point lace!" said Mrs. Delansing. Her voice took on a new
tone, and she looked at the girl with more friendly eyes. "I did not
know that any young women of