partments where the fires
were blazing so cheerfully, and there the two kind creatures sate down
on the bed, and talked about Pen ever so long. Laura added a postscript
to Helen's letter, in which she called him her dearest Pen, and bade him
come home instantly, with two of the handsomest dashes under the word,
and be happy with his mother and his affectionate sister Laura.

In the middle of the night--as these two ladies, after reading their
bibles a great deal during the evening, and after taking just a look
into Pen's room as they passed to their own--in the middle of the night,
I say, Laura, whose head not unfrequently chose to occupy that pillow
which the nightcap of the late Pendennis had been accustomed to press,
cried out suddenly, "Mamma, are you awake?"

Helen stirred and said, "Yes, I'm awake." The truth is, though she had
been lying quite still and silent, she had not been asleep one instant,
but had been looking at the night-lamp in the chimney, and had been
thinking of Pen for hours and hours.

Then Miss Laura (who had been acting with similar hypocrisy, and lying,
occupied with her own thoughts, as motionless as Helen's brooch, with
Pen's and Laura's hair in it, on the frilled white pincushion on the
dressing-table) began to tell Mrs. Pendennis of a notable plan which
she had been forming in her busy little brains; and by which all Pen's
embarrassments would be made to vanish in a moment, and without the
least trouble to anybody.

"You know, mamma," this young lady said, "that I have been living with
you for ten years, during which time you have never taken any of my
money, and have been treating me just as if I was a charity girl. Now,
this obligation has offended me very much, because I am proud and do not
like to be beholden to people. And as, if I had gone to school--only I
wouldn't--it must have cost me at least fifty pounds a year, it is clear
that I owe you fifty times ten pounds, which I know you have put in the
bank at Chatteris for me, and which doesn't belong to me a bit. Now,
to-morrow we will go to Chatteris, and see that nice old Mr. Rowdy, with
the bald head, and ask him for it,--not for his head, but for the five
hundred pounds: and I dare say he will send you two more, which we will
save and pay back; and we will send the money to Pen, who can pay all
his debts without hurting anybody and then we will live happy ever
after."

What Helen replied to this speech need not be repeated, as