ous risk."

"I believe in risks," cried Philippa gallantly. "`There is a tide in
the affairs of men'--Risk--deliberate, thoughtful risk--is only another
name for courage and enterprise and faith. What would become of the
world if no one was willing to take a risk? What battle would be won if
soldiers did not risk everything--health, limbs, life itself--to
overcome the enemy! We know it is a risk; we have faced it with our
eyes open; but we feel it is the right thing to do. It is our chance;
we ought to take it. We are not acting thoughtlessly or lightly; we
mean to work hard, and to ask God to help us and give us strength not to
be discouraged--"

"We are not going to squander our capital, uncle," said Stephen; "we are
going to _invest_ it. Surely if you can equip six people with the means
of getting on in the world, it is a better return for money than a
wretched three and a half per cent. We mean to practise every possible
economy in food and dress and amusements, and to be extravagant in one
way only: the girls shall have no second-rate masters; Barney shall have
a good start. They realise the responsibility which we are taking upon
ourselves, and are prepared to work hard and shorten the period of
probation as much as possible."

"Yes, yes--of course! Young things are always eager for change, and are
ready to promise anything in advance. But suppose they _don't_ make
their way? Suppose your scheme is a failure? The money is left to you
and to Philippa to spend as you think wise for the good of the family,
so that legally there would be no claim upon you for what was gone. But
you might find yourself in a most unpleasant position, all the same. If
you spend it all within the next few years, Barnard may think himself
ill-used when he grows up and feels the need of a few hundred pounds.
The girls may want a trifle to buy a trousseau, or help in other ways,
and may blame you for influencing them when they were too young to know
their own minds. Do you ever think, my dears, of what would happen if
your scheme were to fail?"

Did she ever think! Poor Philippa! How many scores--nay, hundreds--of
times had the nightmare seized her in its grip! How often had she lain
awake shuddering with dread, seeing the workhouse loom large in the
foreground, and the reproachful faces of brothers and sisters turned
mutely upon her! She shivered even now, and clasped her hands beneath
the tablecloth; but she showed