"I'm going to see the duchess! Thank you, cousin Ned! I'll be a maid of
honor!"

"Of course--beauty!" observed Sarah, resuming her supper with a dry
laugh.

"Your sister can win on the terms offered, if anyone can," said I,
turning sharply on Sarah.

"I am sure of it," returned Sarah. "I laughed only because _she_ is so
sure."

Frances then turned to her sister, not reproachfully but earnestly:
"Sure?" she exclaimed. "Of course I am sure. I know myself. You have a
far better mind than mine, but I have--well, I know what I have. I don't
believe I am vain, but I know, sister, that you and I must rebuild the
fortunes of our house, or worse will come to us than we have ever known.
You are sure to do your part because you have intellect--brains. _You_
know you have. Is it any less a matter of vanity for you to know yourself
than it is for me to know myself? I know what I have, and I intend to use
it."

Sarah assented by the monosyllable, "Right!" while Frances ran to the
head of the table, knelt by her father's chair, and said:--

"It is all for dear old father's sake."

Sir Richard brought his daughter's head to his shoulder, affectionately
smoothed her hair for a moment, and spoke with quavering earnestness:--