is telling you about it; and let me hasten to add that they
were in plenty of time for the train; that Mrs. Munt, though
she took a second-class ticket, was put by the guard into a
first (only two seconds on the train, one smoking and the
other babies--one cannot be expected to travel with babies);
and that Margaret, on her return to Wickham Place, was
confronted with the following telegram:

ALL OVER. WISH I HAD NEVER WRITTEN. TELL NO ONE.
--HELEN

But Aunt Juley was gone--gone irrevocably, and no power
on earth could stop her.


Chapter 3

Most complacently did Mrs. Munt rehearse her mission. Her
nieces were independent young women, and it was not often
that she was able to help them. Emily's daughters had never
been quite like other girls. They had been left motherless
when Tibby was born, when Helen was five and Margaret
herself but thirteen. It was before the passing of the
Deceased Wife's Sister Bill, so Mrs. Munt could without
impropriety offer to go and keep house at Wickham Place.
But her brother-in-law, who was peculiar and a German, had
referred the question to Margaret, who with the crudity of
youth had answered, "No, they could manage much better
alone." Five years later Mr. Schlegel had died too, and Mrs.
Munt had repeated her offer. Margaret, crude no longer, had