own, I think. I have an invalid friend--"

Mrs Fanshawe swept aside the suggestion with an imperious hand.

"Nonsense! Utter nonsense! _Nobody_ stays in town in August, my good
child. The thing's impossible. I've passed through once or twice, _en
route_ for country visits, and it's an unknown place. The wierdest
people walking up and down! Where they come from I can't conceive; but
you never saw anything more impossible. And the shops! I knew a poor
girl who became engaged at the end of July, and had to get her trousseau
at once, as they sailed in September. She was in despair. _Nothing_ to
be had. She was positively in tears."

"I shall get engaged in June," Claire said firmly, "and take advantage
of the summer sales. I call it most thoughtless of him to have waited
till the end of July."

But Mrs Fanshawe was not attending; her eyes had brightened with a
sudden thought; she was saying to herself, "Why not? I should be alone.
There would be no danger of complications, and the child would be a
delightful companion, good to look at, plenty to say for herself, and a
mind of her own. Quite useful in entertaining, too. I could play off
some of my duty debts, and she could whistle to us after dinner. Quite
a novelty in the country. It would be quite a draw... A capital idea!
I'll say a week, and if it works she can stay on--"

"No, my dear, you cannot possibly endure town in August, at least not
the entire month. Run down to me for a break. Quite a short journey;
an hour and a half from Waterloo, and the air is delightfully fresh. I
shall be alone, so I can't offer you any excitement, but if you are fond
of motoring--"

The blood rushed into Claire's face. She was so intensely,
overpoweringly surprised, that, for the moment, all other feelings were
in abeyance. The last thing in the world which she had expected was
that Erskine's mother should invite her to visit her home.

"I don't know if you care for gardening. I'm mad about it myself. My
garden is a child to me. I stand no interference. The gardeners are
paid to obey me, and carry out my instructions. If they get upsetting,
off they go. You'd like my garden. It is not cut out to a regulation
pattern; it has a personality of its own. I have all my meals on the
verandah in summer. We could get you some tennis, too. You wouldn't be
buried alive. Well? What do you say? Is it worth while?"

"It's exceedingly kind. It's awfully goo