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42
THE CLIMBER

desirable adjuncts. It was almost impossible that she should not: in London everybody knew everything about other people. Maud would be wealthy too: she was the only child of very rich parents, and—yes, Lucia was delighted that so fair a prospect opened for her friend. True, there was not the slightest reason, so far as she knew, to suppose that this fortunate young man was in the least degree tenderly disposed toward this attractive young woman, but Maud was just the sort of girl whom that kind of man liked. He talked a good deal about slightly improving subjects, and Maud listened so well. She listened as well as he talked. And for herself—well, she had determined to polish up her French, and make the most of herself and other things. But what luck other people had! What short cuts to all that made life pleasant!


Aunt Cathie meantime ordered lunch and dinner, and went into the writing-room to finish reading her paper. After that she had certainly one, and probably two, letters to write, so that she would barely get through her work before it was necessary to go into the garden at twelve and walk round with Johnson. This was done every day, Aunt Cathie going in front, and Johnson tottering behind her, to take her orders. On most days, it was true, nothing particular passed, for when strawberries were clearly green on Tuesday it was impossible that there would be much to say about them on Wednesday, except to remark that they were green still. Also, as she had alluded to the bareness of the famous border every day for the last fortnight, and he had said that it was the cold spring that made it so backward, but that a few hot days would do wonders with it, nothing much remained for discussion. To-day, however, she had the news that the lawn-tennis court would not be used for tennis again till after the alternate Tuesdays in July, and there would be the question of sowing a little grass seed on the barest places. Johnson was sure to discourage this, as he always did when increased exertions on his part were incident to any scheme, and would probably say that he never knew of any good coming from sowing grass at the end of May, and that the price of it this year spelled ruin. In fact, in view of the disputation likely to occur this morning, it would be well to get out by a quarter to twelve, since he went to his dinner at half-past, and Aunt Cathie put down on her memorandum slate "Johnson 11.45," and underlined it.

The first letter was to the ironmonger's about the mowing-