have allowed him to give) a more personal tone to the conversation; she would have been even more tenderly solicitous over the top of Aunt Cathie's head than she had been, would have run into the house to get an extra cushion. But her regret was not of a poignant nature; she still believed that she had done pretty well.
Aunt Cathie had given her the telegram to Mrs. Morris of Sea View to send off, prepaying the answer. And as she pedalled slowly along the white dusty road, the expediency of not sending it, so that no answer could be received, occurred to her. But though she knew that she had quite sufficient immoral courage to do this, if it really helped her, she saw at once that there would only be the gain of a day or two at the outside, since Aunt Cathie would telegraph again, and a day or two was of no particular use, since Lord Brayton, as she knew, had a party coming to-day, and was not likely to be bored or dull (which she wished him to be) while they were there. Had she only known to what maturity his thoughts had arrived on the evening when he walked out alone below the stars and looked towards the amber lights of the town, she would have spared herself this trouble and perplexity, and have gone to Littlestone or anywhere else with triumphant confidence. But not knowing that, she had to make the best plans on the data that were hers. Certainly a day or two days more in Brixham would not materially benefit her; she might just as well send that telegram as not. Then suddenly she said "Oh!" quite out loud, broke into an enchanting smile, and exchanged her strolling progression for a much brisker rate. She even passed the tent-shop without getting off, and went straight to the office to dispatch the telegram as quickly as possible. A perfectly simple idea, and one that would embody the advantage of another interview, had occurred to her.
Lucia was always transparently honest in her dealings with herself; she never covered up a piece of her mind and pretended it was not there, though she habitually showed to other people just that which she thought it would be good for them (or for her) to see. She was aware that such an attitude might have been called hypocrisy, but she preferred herself to call it diplomacy. And on returning, after ordering the tent and her bathing-dress, and sending the telegram, she went up to her room, and proceeded to exercise her gift. A rough copy was needful, and she wrote on the back of an old French exercise.
