the house, eh?" He nodded to them and went out.

"Is she there--alone?" Ellice asked.

"Who, dear?"

"This Helen, your aunt. Is it usual to call your aunt just plain Helen?"

"No, I suppose it isn't, and she is not there alone, as you ask. She is
living with a girl who has just come into a great deal of money--Miss
Joan Meredyth."

"What is she like?" the girl asked quickly.

Constance smiled.

"I don't know, dear. You see, I have never seen her."

"Then I hope," Ellice said between her clenched teeth, "I hope she is
ugly, ugly as sin!"

"I think," said Constance gently, "that you are very silly and foolish!"

Yet when the morrow came it was Ellice and not Constance who sat beside
John in the trap, and was driven by him the six odd miles to Starden.
For Constance had one of "her headaches." It was no imaginary ailment,
but a headache that prostrated her and filled her with pain, that made
every sound an agony. She lay in her room, the blinds drawn, and all the
household hushed.