bode.

The strangeness of entering as a suppliant the house where she had so
long commanded, increased Lily's desire to shorten the ordeal; and when
Miss Stepney entered the darkened drawing-room, rustling with the best
quality of crape, her visitor went straight to the point: would she be
willing to advance the amount of the expected legacy?

Grace, in reply, wept and wondered at the request, bemoaned the
inexorableness of the law, and was astonished that Lily had not realized
the exact similarity of their positions. Did she think that only the
payment of the legacies had been delayed? Why, Miss Stepney herself had
not received a penny of her inheritance, and was paying rent--yes,
actually!--for the privilege of living in a house that belonged to her.
She was sure it was not what poor dear cousin Julia would have
wished--she had told the executors so to their faces; but they were
inaccessible to reason, and there was nothing to do but to wait. Let Lily
take example by her, and be patient--let them both remember how
beautifully patient cousin Julia had always been.

Lily made a movement which showed her imperfect assimilation of this
example. "But you will have everything, Grace--it would be easy for you
to borrow ten times the amount I am asking for."

"Borrow--easy for me to borrow?" Grace Stepney rose up before her in
sable wrath. "Do you imagine for a moment that I would raise money on my
expectations from cousin Julia, when I know so well her unspeakable
horror of every transaction of the sort? Why, Lily, if you must know the
truth, it was the idea of your being in debt that brought on her
illness--you remember she had a slight attack before you sailed. Oh, I
don't know the particulars, of course--I don't WANT to know them--but
there were rumours about your affairs that made her most unhappy--no one
could be with her without seeing that. I can't help it if you are
offended by my telling you this now--if I can do anything to make you
realize the folly of your course, and how deeply SHE disapproved of it, I
shall feel it is the truest way of making up to you for her loss."

Chapter 5

It seemed to Lily, as Mrs. Peniston's door closed on her, that she was
taking a final leave of her old life. The future stretched before her
dull and bare as the deserted length of Fifth Avenue, and opportunities
showed as meagrely as the few cabs trailing in quest of fares that did
not come. The completeness of the analogy wa