decided between them that Lucy should explain to Aunt
Emmeline that Ayala could not make a prolonged stay at Queen's Gate.
"But how shall I say it?" asked Lucy.

"Tell her the truth, openly. 'Tom wants to marry Ayala, and Ayala
won't have him. Therefore, of course, she can't come, because it
would look as though she were going to change her mind,--which she
isn't.' Aunt Emmeline will understand that, and will not be a bit
sorry. She doesn't want to have me for a daughter-in-law. She had
quite enough of me at Rome."

All this time the carriage was waiting, and Lucy was obliged to
return before half of all that was necessary had been said. What was
to be Ayala's life for the future? How were the sisters to see each
other? What was to be done when, at the end of the coming summer,
Lucy should be taken first to Glenbogie and then to Merle Park?
There is a support in any excitement, though it be in the excitement
of sorrow only. At the present moment Ayala was kept alive by the
necessity of her battle with Tom Tringle, but how would it be with
her when Tom should have given up the fight? Lucy knew, by sad
experience, how great might be the tedium of life in Kingsbury
Crescent, and knew, also, how unfitted Ayala was to endure it. There
seemed to be no prospect of escape in future. "She knows nothing of
what I am suffering," said Ayala, "when she gives me the things to
do, and tells me of more things, and more, and more! How can there
be so many things to be done in such a house as this?" But as Lucy
was endeavouring to explain how different were the arrangements in
Kingsbury Crescent from those which had prevailed at the bijou, the
offended coachman sent up word to say that he didn't think Sir Thomas
would like it if the horses were kept out in the rain any longer.
Then Lucy hurried down, not having spoken of half the things which
were down in her mind on the list for discussion.

CHAPTER XIII.

HOW THE TRINGLES FELL INTO TROUBLE.

After the Easter holidays the Trafficks came back to Queen's Gate,
making a combination of honeymoon and business which did very well
for a time. It was understood that it was to be so. During honeymoon
times the fashionable married couple is always lodged and generally
boarded for nothing. That opening wide of generous hands, which
exhibits itself in the joyous enthusiasm of a coming marriage, taking
the shape of a houseful of presents, of a gorgeous and ponderous
trousseau, of a sp