‘I’ve a great mind not to let Cynthia go,’ said Mrs. Gibson, reflectively.

‘I can’t go, mamma,’ said Cynthia, colouring.  ’My gowns are all so shabby, and my old bonnet must do for this summer.’

’Well, but you can buy a new one; and I’m sure it is high time you should get yourself another silk-gown.  You must have been saving up a great deal, for I don’t know when you’ve had any new clothes.’

Cynthia began to say something, but stopped short.  She went on buttering her toast, but she held it in her hand without eating it; without looking up either, as, after a minute or two of silence, she spoke again,—­

’I cannot go.  I should like it very much; but I really cannot go.  Please, mamma, write at once, and refuse it.’

’Nonsense, child!  When a man in Mr. Kirkpatrick’s position comes forward to offer a favour, it does not do to decline it without giving a sufficient reason.  So kind of him as it is, too!’

‘Suppose you offer to go instead of me?’ proposed Cynthia.

‘No, no! that won’t do,’ said Mr. Gibson, decidedly.  ’You can’t transfer invitations in that way.  But really this excuse about your clothes does appear to be very trivial, Cynthia, if you have no other reason to give.’

‘It is a real, true reason to me,’ said Cynthia, looking up at him as she spoke.  ’You must let me judge for myself.  It would not do to go there in a state of shabbiness, for even in Doughty Street, I remember, my aunt was very particular about dress; and now that Margaret and Helen are grown up, and they visit so much,—­pray don’t say anything more about it, for I know it would not do.’

‘What have you done with all your money, I wonder?’ said Mrs. Gibson.  ’You’ve twenty pounds a year, thanks to Mr. Gibson and me; and I’m sure you haven’t spent more than ten.’

‘I had not many things when I came back from France,’ said Cynthia, in a low voice, and evidently troubled by all this questioning.  ’Pray let it be decided at once; I can’t go, and there’s an end of it.’  She got up, and left the room rather suddenly.

‘I don’t understand it at all,’ said Mrs. Gibson.  ‘Do you, Molly?’

’No.  I know she does not like spending money on her dress, and is very careful.’  Molly said this much, and then was afraid she had made mischief.

’But then she must have got the money somewhere.  It always has struck me that if you have not extravagant habits, and do not live up to your income, you must have a certain sum to lay by at the end of the year.  Have I not often said so, Mr. Gibson?’

‘Probably.’

’Well, then, apply the same reasoning to Cynthia’s case; and then, I ask, what has become of the money?’

‘I cannot tell,’ said Molly, seeing that she was appealed to.  ’She may have given it away to some one who wants it.’

Mr. Gibson put down his newspaper.