"A week. I had some business in London, and then I went on to look up
Lucy. She had just gone up to town--to a congress, I believe--and so
I missed her. I shall go up again to see her as soon as she answers
my letter."

"It won't be necessary. She's coming here for a fortnight."

"That's very kind. Whom have I to thank for suggesting it?"

"Does it matter? It was a natural thing to ask your only sister--who is a
friend of mine. There is plenty of room, and the place is quiet."

"It didn't used to be. If I remember, your mother generally had it full
part of the year."

"Things have changed," said Evelyn quietly.

Vane was baffled by something in her manner. Evelyn had never been
effusive--that was not her way---but now, while she was cordial, she did
not seem disposed to resume their acquaintance where it had been broken
off. After all, he could hardly have expected this.

"Mabel is like you, as you used to be," he observed. "It struck me as
soon as I saw her; but when she began to talk there was a difference."

Evelyn laughed softly.

"Yes; I think you're right in both respects. Mopsy has the courage of her
convictions. She's an open rebel."