her
stepmother's anger and suspicion. Then, as she hesitated, she heard a
heavy step on the stairs, and she crushed the note hurriedly into her
pocket.

Mrs. Rainham came into the room without the formality of knocking--a
formality she had never observed where Cecilia was concerned. The
afternoon post had just come, and she carried some letters in her hand.

"Cecilia, I want you to put on your things and go to Balding's for me,"
she said, her voice more civil than it had been for a month. "I'm asked
up to Liverpool for a few days; my sister there is giving a big At
Home--an awfully big thing, with the Lady Mayoress and all the Best
People at it--and she wants me to go up. I suppose she'll want me to
sing."

"That is nice," said Cecilia, speaking with more truth than Mrs. Rainham
guessed. "What will you wear?"

"That's just it," said her stepmother eagerly. "My new evening dress
isn't quite finished--we ran short of trimming. I can't go out, because
the Simons are coming in to afternoon tea; so you just hurry and go over
to Balding's to match it. I got it there, and they had plenty. Here's
a bit." She held out a fragment of gaudy sequin trimming. "I think you
could finish the dress without me getting in the dressmaker again--she's
that run after she makes a regular favour of coming."

"Very well," said Cecilia--who would, at the moment, have agreed to sew
anything or everything that might hasten her stepmother's journey. "When
do you go?"

"The day after to-morrow. I'll stay there a few days, I suppose; not
worth going so far for only one evening. Mind, Cecilia, you're not to
have Bob here while I'm away. When I come back, if I'm satisfied with
you, I'll see about asking him again."

"That is very good of you," said the girl slowly.

"Well, that's all right--you hurry and get ready; there's always a
chance they may have sold out, because it was a bargain line, and if
they have you'll have to try other places. I don't know what on earth
I'll do if you can't match it." She turned to go, and then hesitated. "I
was thinking you might take Avice with you--but you'll get about quicker
alone, and she isn't ready. The tubes and buses are that crowded it's
no catch to take a child about with you." In moments of excitement
Mrs. Rainham's English was apt to slip from her. At other times
she cultivated it carefully, assisted by a dramatic class, which an
enthusiastic maiden lady, with leanings towards the stage, conducted