But now it is finished, and cannot be helped." "I wish I had known," blundered Eustace, "I could have lent you the money.

I have a hundred and fifty pounds." "You are very good," she answered gently, "but it is no use talking about it now, it is finished." Then Eustace rose and went away; and it was not till he found himself in the street that he remembered that he had never asked Augusta what her plans were.

Indeed, the sight of poor Jeannie had put everything else out of his head.

However, he consoled himself with the reflection that he could call again a week or ten days after the funeral.
Two days later, Augusta followed the remains of her dearly beloved sister to their last resting place, and then came home on foot (for she was the only mourner), and sat in her black gown before the little fire, and reflected upon her position.

What was she to do?
She could not stay in these rooms.