ready dissimulation, she threw off her attentive manner
and answered in Clodagh's own light tone.

"Yes; it is a nice little place. But what about the flat? Isn't that
perfect?"

"Yes."

"You are not enthusiastic? Oh, I _am_ disappointed!"

Clodagh turned from the mirror.

"Forgive me!" she said impulsively. "Of course the flat is perfectly
sweet--and exactly what I want. It was just the arriving alone that
made it seem a little--a little----"

"Of course!--of course! Poor dear child! But wait!--wait till you begin
to know people!"

Clodagh's expressive face brightened.

"Yes. And when Nance--when my sister comes back! Oh! I _must_ enjoy
myself! I _must_ be happy!"

"Why should you be anything else? When have you heard from your
sister?"

"The day I left Nice--a most dear letter. She is having a heavenly time
in America. The Estcoits are such delightful companions; the girl is
seven months younger than she is--and the boy is seven years older.
Curious difference, isn't it?"

"Very. But I didn't know there was a boy. I thought it was only the
school friend and the mother."

"Oh no! There's the brother--Pierce. Nance's letters are full of him."

Lady Frances gave a little half-sarcastic laugh.

"Then Nance is presumably still learning--though she has left school?"

Something in the utterance of the words made Clodagh flush.

"Don't!" she said involuntarily--"don't! Nance is--is different from
me."

Then, as her hostess remained silent, she turned and looked at her.

"Don't be offended!" she added. "It is only that I can't have anything
cynical said of Nance. I know you don't understand. It seems that
because I sent her to America, I don't really care----" She halted
again.

"But I don't make you understand!--I don't seem to make any one
understand." Her voice dropped slightly; and Lady Frances, as though
fearing some emotional outburst, broke in hastily.

"My dear child!--my dear Clodagh!" Then she paused, for the door opened
and her maid Rees reappeared.

"Excuse me, my lady! But Lord Deerehurst and Mr. Serracauld are in the
drawing-room. Franks thought your ladyship would wish to know."

"Quite right. Thank you, Rees! Clodagh, are you ready?"

Clodagh's face was slightly flushed from her momentary outbreak, as she
left the bedroom. Descending the stairs, Lady Frances moved to her side
and passed her hand through her arm: and at the touch, a sharp
repulsion to this friendship--this fair we