They were sitting in Miss Baring's bedroom, discussing a letter which she had just received from an aunt in New York. This aunt was a wealthy woman, and had once before (on the occasion of Mrs. Baring's death) written to offer her niece a home. In declining this offer, Hatty had said that her brother wished her to remain in Paris, where she meant to study, and ultimately she hoped to support herself by, painting. Nine months had passed, and the offer was now renewed. As she finished reading aloud the letter, in which the invitation was pressed with even more warmth than before, Miss Baring said—
"The question is, am I justified in still refusing? Am I justified in saying that I shall ever be able to support myself by painting?"
"I do not see the necessity of saying anything about it. It is enough that I wish you to remain with me."
"Aunt Jane evidently thinks, and rightly too, that I ought not to be a burthen on you, Ally."
"Then why doesn't she make you an allowance? She is a selfish old woman, she wants you to be at her beck and call. She fancies everything is to give way to her, and the opposition she meets with only makes her more obstinate. You know me too well, Hatty, to be moved by any such argument. Pay no attention to that part of the letter."
"Very well, dear, I will not. But you avoid answering my question. Shall I ever make enough by painting to be independent?"
He hesitated. "Many women do, without very distinct talent. At all events, you are happy in pursuing art,
