She had never felt less like making the attempt than on the present occasion; but she had sought in vain for any other means of escape from an intolerable situation.
Mrs.Peniston examined her critically.

"You're a bad colour, Lily: this incessant rushing about is beginning to tell on you," she said.
Miss Bart saw an opening.

"I don't think it's that, Aunt Julia; I've had worries," she replied.
"Ah," said Mrs.Peniston, shutting her lips with the snap of a purse closing against a beggar.
"I'm sorry to bother you with them," Lily continued, "but I really believe my faintness last night was brought on partly by anxious thoughts--" "I should have said Carry Fisher's cook was enough to account for it.
She has a woman who was with Maria Melson in 1891--the spring of the year we went to Aix--and I remember dining there two days before we sailed, and feeling SURE the coppers hadn't been scoured." "I don't think I ate much; I can't eat or sleep." Lily paused, and then said abruptly: "The fact is, Aunt Julia, I owe some money." Mrs.Peniston's face clouded perceptibly, but did not express the astonishment her niece had expected.

She was silent, and Lily was forced to continue: "I have been foolish----" "No doubt you have: extremely foolish," Mrs.Peniston interposed.

"I fail to see how any one with your income, and no expenses--not to mention the handsome presents I've always given you----" "Oh, you've been most generous, Aunt Julia; I shall never forget your kindness.