"But we have so many," said Rose in dismay. "We are not safe a day."

Aubertin assured her the danger was only in appearance. "Your large
creditors are men of property, and such men let their funds lie unless
compelled to move them. The small mortgagee, the petty miser, who has,
perhaps, no investment to watch but one small loan, about which he is
as anxious and as noisy as a hen with one chicken, he is the clamorous
creditor, the harsh little egoist, who for fear of risking a crown piece
would bring the Garden of Eden to the hammer. Now we are rid of
that little wretch, Bonard, and have Perrin on our side; so there is
literally nothing to fear."

The sisters thanked him warmly, and Rose shared his hopes; and said so;
but Josephine was silent and thoughtful. Nothing more worth recording
passed that night. But the next day was the first of May, Josephine's
birthday.

Now they always celebrated this day as well as they could; and used to
plant a tree, for one thing. Dard, well spurred by Jacintha, had got
a little acacia; and they were all out in the Pleasaunce to plant it.
Unhappily, they were a preposterous time making up their feminine minds
where to have it set; so Dard turned rusty and said the park was the
best place for it. There it could do no harm, stick it where you would.

"And who told you to put in your word?" inquired Jacintha. "You're here
to dig the hole where mademoiselle chooses; not to argufy."

Josephine whispered Rose, "I admire the energy of her character. Could
she be induced to order once for all where the poor thing is to be
planted?"