to which you do not belong. I suppose times have changed, or I dare say it is I who am getting old-fashioned; but in years that you can remember even better than I we should not have thought of leaving home in October when we had been away all August. Yes, the ace is at the bottom, as usual. You will no doubt take a great many dresses with you, and a good deal of jewellery. As I shall be alone in the house, it will be a relief to know that the amethysts are not at the beck and call of the first burglar who cares to walk into your bedroom. No doubt you would like to take my pearls also. I shall be delighted to lend you them. I dare say Lucia will not remember that they are mine, and not yours, and think that you are masquerading about in other people's things. And it is very unlikely that anybody else will be there who knows either of us."
Cathie could easily afford to overlook what bitter sarcasm there was in this peculiarly acid speech. She was often afraid she thought far too much about dress, and as a matter of fact the question of jewellery had been much in her mind since Lucia's telegram had arrived. But Elizabeth's offer to lend her the pearls made a solid foundation for a varied gorgeousness. The pearls were magnificent—Roman, and three large and lustrous rows of them.
"Thanks, dear Elizabeth," she said. "Shall like the pearls. Kind of you. Amethysts one night, pearls the next."
A great project was in Cathie's mind. But she looked with a diplomatic eye at her sister's patience to see if it was prospering before she broached the subject to her, for it was daring. For a little while it hung in the balance; then by some stroke of great good fortune Elizabeth got no less than two spaces, and began piling up cards with a hand that was fevered with success. Black knaves went on to red queens, red queens nestled under black kings, aces flowed out on the table, and showers of twos and threes and fours were poured on them.
Then Cathie spoke, for Elizabeth was actually smiling.
"I've been thinking, Elizabeth," she said, "whether I wouldn't take Jane with me to Brayton as my maid. It's a big party, you see: everybody will have maids. Then my shoulder has been very rheumatic lately. Who's to rub it if I don't take someone? Can't reach it myself, and I shouldn't like to ask a strange housemaid. And with the amethysts and your pearls, I should be easier if I knew that Jane was looking after them. Besides, there's the tipping to think of. If another servant looks
