me into her eyes. She
was stricken with the deepest compunction, but her pride did not permit
her to give in all at once.

"I dare say you told her how badly off we were," she said.

"I told her nothing about it, and she did not say a word--not a word, as
if it were a charity--only to please you--to let you see that you were
remembered; but I dare say it is quite true after all," said Ursula,
with lofty irony, "that Cousin Anne will never get a husband, and that
they are old maids."

"Oh, you know I didn't mean it!" said Janey, giving way to her tears.

Then Ursula got up and took off her hat and smoothed her hair, feeling
satisfied with her success, and went downstairs again to Reginald, who
was seated on the dingy sofa waiting for her, to answer her questions
about the great event which had happened since she had been away.
Ursula's mind was full of the shock of the sharp impression made by her
return, though the impression itself began to wear away.

"I can understand why you don't care about living at home," she said.
"Oh I wonder if I could do anything to mend it! I am so glad you have
got something, Reginald. If you have a good servant, you might be quite
comfortable by yourself, and we could come and see you. I should not
feel it a bit--not a single bit; and it would be so much nicer for you."

"You are mistaken," said her brother. "It is not staying at home I
object to. We are not very tidy or very comfortable, perhaps, but we all
belong to each other, at least. It is not that, Ursula."

"What is it, then? Janey says," said Ursula, drawing a long breath of
awe and admiration, "that you are to have two hundred and fifty pounds a
year."

"For doing nothing," he said.

"For doing nothing?" She looked up at him a little bewildered, for his
tone struck Ursula as not at all corresponding with the delightful
character of the words he said. "But, Reginald, how nice, how very nice
it sounds! How lucky you must have been! How could it happen that such a
delightful thing should come to one of us? We are always so unlucky,
papa says."

"If you think this luck--" said Reginald. "He does, and he is quite
pleased; but how do you suppose I can be pleased? Thrust into a place
where I am not wanted--where I can be of no use. A dummy, a practical
falsehood. How can I accept it, Ursula? I tell you it is a sinecure!"

Ursula looked at him with eyes round with wonder. He seemed to be
speaking in some different language o