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196 "I am hurt; it hurts me that you should be like that," the voice was very little, very far away, very much covered up with the pillows and conveniences of life. And Madge Heron was coming next week; Lucia felt that she must tell her about it all. Madge liked her immensely, but she did not do her justice; she said she only tinkled. Surely when she knew how splendidly loyal Lucia had been, how she had risked a great deal for the sake of a friend, and for the management of a husband, Madge would do her better justice.

The charming telegram which Lucia had sent off to Aunt Cathie was received by that lady some half an hour later, and threw her into a state of agitation that was not without its pleasing side. Nothing could be done that evening, except acquaint Elizabeth, who had so far recovered from an attack of bronchial catarrh that she was able to come downstairs and keep all the windows shut, with the cordiality of her welcome, but Aunt Cathie foresaw busy days to follow. For the Hampshire Express had announced this very morning that there would be a large shooting-party at Brayton the following week, and the question of dresses was of extraordinary complication. Had Cathie known that there was to be a party, it was doubtful whether she would have proposed herself, but, having done so, in innocence of the subsequent knowledge, she turned a firm but excited face towards the event. She wished, however, that Elizabeth would play her patience and not read the Hampshire Express. She might come across that fragment of information, and Cathie saw that the result would be irony.

Elizabeth gave a rather thick cough; usually she gave thin coughs, but there had been bronchial catarrh. But Cathie knew what the cough meant. Elizabeth laid down the Hampshire Express.

"I see you have chosen your date for going to Brayton with some care, Catherine," she said. "You will get there on the day the large shooting-party assembles."

"Yes; didn't know it when I suggested Tuesday next week," said Cathie.

Elizabeth tottered to the patience table with eyebrows markedly raised. That sort of silence with her implied dissent. Then after a suitable pause she spoke in a faint voice.

"I hope you will have a very pleasant week, Catherine," she said, "and not feel that you are thrusting yourself into circles