and silver chain, buying baubles for which they had no use;
occasionally--very occasionally, for love of the cause; often--very
often because Lady --- had sent a personal invitation, and Lady --- was
a useful friend, and gave such charming balls!

At the two concerts Claire had a pleasant success, which she enjoyed
with all her heart. Her whistling performance seemed to act as a
general introduction, for every listener seemed to be anxious to talk to
her, and to ask an infinitude of questions. Was it difficult? How long
did it take to learn? Was she nervous? Wasn't it difficult not to
laugh? How did she manage not to look a fright? Did she do it often?
Did she _mind_? This last question usually led up to a tentative
mention of some entertainment in which the speaker was interested, but
after the first refusal Claire was on guard, and regretted that her time
was filled up. She was eager to help Mrs Willoughby, but had no desire
to be turned into an unpaid public performer!

Janet did not appear at the bazaar, so the drive home was once more a
_tete-a-tete_, during which Mrs Willoughby questioned Claire as to the
coming holidays, and expressed pleasure to hear that they were to be
spent in Brussels. She was so kind and motherly in her manner that
Claire was emboldened to bespeak her interest on Sophie's behalf.

"I suppose," she said tentatively, "you don't know of any family going
abroad to a dry climate--it must be a very dry climate--who would like
to take a girl with them to--er--to be a sort of help! She's a pretty
girl, and very gay and amusing, and she's had the highest possible
training in health exercises. She would be splendid if there was a
delicate child who needed physical development, and, of course, she is
quite well educated all round. She could teach up to a certain point.
She is the Gym. mistress in my school, and is very popular with the
girls."

"And why does she want to leave?"

"She's not well. It's rheumatism--a bad kind of rheumatism. It is just
beginning, and the doctor says it ought to be tackled at once, and that
to live on clay soil is the worst thing for her. If she stays at Saint
Cuthbert's she's practically bound to live on clay. And he says she
ought to get out of England for the next few winters. She has not a
penny beyond her salary, but if she could find a post--"

"Well, why not?" Mrs Willoughby's voice was full of a cheerful
optimism. "I don't know of anything