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70 she had forgotten all about the occurrence. But even while she glanced quickly through these possibilities the blow fell in a smarter and more unexpected manner than she had anticipated.

"I was so sorry," said Lord Brayton to Aunt Cathie, "that I was out when you called. But I have been so very busy this last fortnight that I have seen nobody but my agent."

Luckily, Aunt Elizabeth was the other side of Aunt Cathie, and though she would indignantly have denied the imputation, the fact was that she was a little deaf. Aunt Cathie, however, turned to Lord Brayton in scarcely concealed surprise, when she saw Lucia looking at her with entreaty, and nodding gently at her. Aunt Cathie was not remarkably quick at taking hints, but there was no mistaking Lucia's look.

"You must have been driven," she said. "But what a good thing Lucia was in to-day! We are lucky to have such fine weather, are we not?"

That certainly was a safer topic; Aunt Cathie had changed the subject with a wrench, it might be, but changed it she had, and Lucia was grateful, for the greater danger of Aunt Elizabeth knowing was for the time averted. But after what had happened it was clear she must make Aunt Cathie her confidant. She thought that she could see her way through that.

Her opportunity occurred after they got back from the match. Elizabeth instantly went upstairs to lie down after the excitement, but the other two went out into the garden to see how things were looking "against," as Aunt Cathie put it, "the first alternate Tuesday." She also was bursting to know what Lucia's signal had meant, but as soon as they were alone, Lucia opened the subject herself, knowing well that an unasked confidence is more highly prized than one that is asked for. Aunt Cathie, she felt sure, would ask about it, unless she herself took the initiative. Nor did she intend to fall into the further mistake of inventing palliatives for what she had done. She wanted help, and knew quite well that help is given most readily to those who are abject. She prepared to be abject. She guessed, too, very well how tenderly (and how queerly) Aunt Cathie loved her, and how eager she was for intimacy. So she meant to make the most of that.

"Aunt Cathie," she said, "I've done something quite awful and disgraceful, and I want to tell you about it. May I?"

Cathie's heart gave a little leap, and a sudden colour came into her cheeks. She almost hoped that what Lucia had to tell her