Good-bye, aunt. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. ‘Soldier of fortune. Whoever chose to incur the risk of so doing might enter the Mint at any hour; but no one was suffered to depart without giving a satisfactory account of himself, or producing a pass from the Master. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. Tell him the truth, Annabel. I’ll give you, say, thirty-five guineas a week clear of expenses, and half of anything you earn above the two turns a night. An influence of this description appeared to be exerted on the present occasion. “Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion.
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