mother startled her again.

"Dolly have you told your father that you want money?"

Dolly hesitated; had to say yes.

"And he did not give it to you?"

"Yes, mother; he sent me some."

"When?"

"It was--it must have been three weeks ago."

"How much?"

"Not enough to pay all that is due to Margaret."

Mrs. Copley laid down her face in her hands. A terrible pain went
through Dolly's heart; but what could she say. It seemed as if pain
pricked her like a shower of arrows, first on this side and then on
that. She thought her mother _had_ gained somewhat in the past weeks;
how would it, or could it, be now? Presently Mrs. Copley lifted up her
head with a further question.

"Is Sarah paid?"

"No, mother; not yet," said poor Dolly.

"Has Peter been paid anything?"

"Not by us. We do not pay Peter at all," replied Dolly, feeling as if
the words were stabbing her.

"Who does?" said her mother quickly.

"Mr. St. Leger sent him here. He is their servant really, and they take
care of him."

"I don't see how your father can content himself with that," said Mrs.
Copley. "But I suppose that is one of the debts that _you_ will pay,
Dolly."

Dolly forced herself to speak very quietly, though every nerve and
fibre was trembling and quivering. She said, "How, mother?"

"I suppose you know. Mr. St. Leger knows, at any rate; and your father
too, it seems."

"Mother," said Dolly, sitting up a little straighter, "do you think I
will pay debts in _that_ way?"

"What other way will you pay them, then, child? what do you and your
father expect? What _can_ you do, if you have not the money?" Mrs.
Copley spoke bitterly. Dolly waited a little, perhaps to bite down or
swallow down some feeling.

"Mother," she said, somewhat lower, "do you think father would want me
to pay his debts so?"

"Want to?" echoed Mrs. Copley. "I tell you, Dolly, when people get into
difficulties the question is not what they _want_ to do. They have to
pocket their likings, and eat humble pie. But how has your father got
into difficulties?" she burst out with an expression of frightened
distress. "He always had plenty. Dolly!--tell me!--what do you know
about it? what is it? How _could_ he get into difficulties! Oh, if we
had staid at home! Dolly, how is it possible? We have always had
plenty--money running like water--all my life; and now, how _could_
your father have got into difficulties?"

Perhaps the difficulty was but transient and woul