you. That is the only thing I have to think of. I shall not spend any money this year: you will have all the eighty pounds. I don't know how far that will go in housekeeping; but you need not stitch your poor fingers to the bone, and stare away all the sight that the tears have left in your dear eyes."
Gwendolen did not give any caresses with her words as she had been used to do. She did not even look at her mother, but was looking at the turquoise necklace as she turned it over her fingers.
"Bless you for your tenderness, my good darling!" said Mrs Davilow, with tears in her eyes. "Don't despair because there are clouds now. You are so young. There may be great happiness in store for you yet."
"I don't see any reason for expecting it, mamma," said Gwendolen, in a hard tone; and Mrs Davilow was silent, thinking as she had often thought before—"What did happen between her and Mr Grandcourt?"
"I will keep this necklace, mamma," said Gwendolen, laying it apart and then closing the casket. "But do get the other things sold even if they will not bring much. Ask my uncle what to do with them. I shall certainly not use them again.
