y were even asked for. Deb had
blighted these unbusiness-like overtures on her own account, and
Frances herself had said the rudest things about them and him--but not
lately. In the utter dullness and barrenness of her life, she had been
glad to accept the civilities of anything in the shape of a man--to try
her 'prentice hand on any material. All the armoury of the born beauty
was hers, and she knew as well how to use each weapon effectively as a
blind kitten knows how to suck milk. They were easily successful with
the old fool, who is ever more of a fool than the young fool; and when
she found that, she found something to entertain her. She not only
received Mr Ewing when he called, but talked to him at the gate when he
went past--and he went past several times a day. Now, when the
situation at home had grown desperate, and she was looking all ways for
means to save herself, his amusing infatuation became a matter for
serious thought. COULD she? She was a hard case, but even she wavered.
He was probably sixty, and she was eighteen. Oh, she couldn't! But
when, after Miss Keene's departure, Deb told her they could no longer
afford hired help, and that she (Frances) must give up her lazy ways
and take her share of that intolerable housework, then Frances changed
her mind. Beggars could not be choosers.

Deb felt like the camel under the last straw when the announcement of
the proposed marriage was made to her. It was worse than Mary's--worse
than Rose's--worse than any other misfortune that had befallen the
family. She sat down and wept at the thought of what the Pennycuicks
had come to. She rated Frances furiously; she reasoned with her; she
pleaded with her; she tried to bribe her; but Frances was getting boxes
of diamonds, and sets of furs and lace, and what not, and it was
useless for Deb to attempt to outbid the giver of these things, or to
part her sister from them. She loved the old man, Frances said--he
certainly was a decently-mannered, good-natured, rather fine-looking,
and most generous old man--and he was going to take her everywhere and
give her a good time--and she would never have to go shabby again as
long as she lived; and if Deb refused her a proper wedding, law or no
law, she would run away with him, as Mary had run away with Bennet
Goldsworthy, and Rose with Peter Breen.

Whether this dire threat prevailed, or the temptation of the money, or
whether she could not any longer fight against fate, Deb ga