ul one. He had held few briefs, and, though
he worked hard, and had good capabilities, he had never achieved
fortune; and as he lived up to his income, and was rather fond of the
good things of this life, he got through most of his wife's money,
and, contrary to the advice of older and wiser heads, invested the
remainder in the business of a connection who only wanted capital to
make his fortune and Mr. Challoner's too.

It was a grievous error; and yet, if Mr. Challoner had lived, those
few thousands would hardly have been so sorely missed. He was young in
his profession, and if he had been spared, success would have come to
him as to other men; but he was cut off unexpectedly in the prime of
life, and Mrs. Challoner gave up her large house at Kensington, and
settled at Glen Cottage with her three daughters, understanding that
life was changed for her, and that they should have to be content with
small means and few wants.

Hitherto they had had sufficient; but of late there had been dark
whispers concerning that invested money; things were not quite square
and above-board; the integrity of the firm was doubted. Mr. Trinder,
almost with tears in his eyes, begged Mrs. Challoner to be prudent and
spend less. The crash which he had foreseen, and had vainly tried to
avert, had come to-night. Gardiner & Fowler were bankrupt, and their
greatest creditor, Mrs. Challoner, was ruined.

"We cannot get our money. Mr. Trinder says we never shall. They have
been paying their dividends correctly, keeping it up as a sort of
blind, he says: but all the capital is eaten away. George Gardiner,
too, your father's cousin, the man he trusted above every one,--he to
defraud the widow and the fatherless, to take our money--my children's
only portion--and to leave us beggared." And Mrs. Challoner, made
tragical by this great blow, clasped her hands and looked at her girls
with two large tears rolling down her face.

"Mother, are you sure? is it quite as bad as that?" asked Nan; and
then she kissed away the tears, and said something rather brokenly
about having faith, and trying not to lose courage; then her voice
failed her, and they all sat quiet together.

CHAPTER VII.

PHILLIS'S CATECHISM.

A veil of silence fell over the little party. After the first few
moments of dismay, conjecture, and exclamation, there did not seem to
be much that any one could say. Each girl was busy with her own
thoughts and private interpretation