"Seriously speaking, dear Charles, I am very glad you paid my worthy neighbour, and I will go over myself to-morrow and thank him. We are going to France to meet my daughters, and the bills in your pocket, with my income, will enable us to do so. I shall thank Mr. Glentworth in person, I hope, in a fortnight or so."
Mr. Penrhyn mechanically opened his pocket-book, and gave the neatly-folded bills into the white hand extended to receive them, and which closed on them with a miser's grasp, its next motion being a dismissal of all save Helen.
"Who knows," said Lady Anne to herself, "but I may get the money, or the best part of it, out of the old man's hands before he goes into the city, in which case this untoward affair may turn to good account; it will strengthen my credit without materially diminishing my funds. The great art of life is undoubtedly 'keeping up appearances,' and one must pay their debts now and then, on that account."
Having arrived at this conclusion, and become reconciled to the transaction, the lady naturally concluded she should sleep; but, alas! the "innocent sleep" had been frightened either by the cough, the anger, or, worse than all, the dread, produced by the evanishing notes; and, notwithstanding all the pretty epithets poets have bestowed on this said sleep,
