clasped on her lap. Peter and Urquhart sat down by her, and the oppressed
Finn presently wandered away to talk to Lucy's father.

Lucy gave a little sigh of relief.

"_Wish_ they wouldn't come and talk to me," she said. "I'm no good to
them; I don't understand; and I hate people to be unhappy. I'm dreadfully
sorry they are. I don't want to have to think about them. Why can't they
be happy? There are so many nice things all about. 'Tis such _waste_."
She looked up at Urquhart, and her eyes laughed because he was happy and
clean, and shone like a new pin.

"It's nicest," she said, "to be happy and clean. And it's not bad to be
happy and dirty; or _very_ bad to be unhappy and clean; but ..." She shut
her lips with a funny distaste on the remaining alternative. "And I'm
horribly afraid Felicity's going to get engaged to Mr. Malyon, that young
one talking to her, do you see? He helps with conspiracies in Poland."

"But he's quite clean," said Urquhart, looking at him.

Lucy admitted that. "But he'll get sent to Siberia soon, don't you see,
and Felicity will go too, I know."

Peter said, "If I was Felicity I'd marry Leslie; I wouldn't hesitate for
a moment. I wish it was me he loved so. Fancy marrying into all those
lovely things I'm getting for him. Only I hope she won't, because then
she'd take over the shopping department, and I should be left unemployed.
Oh, Lucy, he's let me buy him the heavenliest pair of Chelsea
_jardinières_, shaped like orange-tubs, with Cupids painted on blue
panels. You must come and see them soon."