Happily they had no one else to wait for, and it heartened her mightily to think that she had ordered the promptest possible service of the dinner. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. They then entered the room, which was perfectly dark. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do. “The fact of it is, and this absurd project of yours only brings it to a head, you have begun to get hold of some very queer ideas about what a young lady in your position may or may not venture to do.
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