It doesn't matter! That's to say, it can't be helped.

Lettice had not spoken yet. She knew well that Felix's opinion, not hers, was the important question, even though her future might be more acutely infected than his by the correspondence between Miss Anderson and Dr. Bryant. Not being self-assertive, she was in no haste to thrust herself into the discussion, but sat quietly, work in hand, glancing between the stitches from one to the other.

And you to write to him—after all these years!

Not only by her exertions had she made a home for the two children, and given them thus far a good education: but she had also paid all her father's debts—not large, perhaps, in actual amount, but very large in proportion to Cecilia's means. She knew no rest till they were liquidated: and she would have done twice as much in love to her father's memory. He had not been a gifted man, or an estimable man, or a man of high principle: but he had had the power to make all women believe in him.

Treading upon the heels of lessening work came soon the direful question how to get on? How to pay rent and bills, how to procure food and clothing, how to meet educational expenses?