The Real Charlotte. 175 



that it still remained for her to fee the elderly English upper 

 housemaid with the half-crown that Charlotte had diplomati- 

 cally given her for the purpose. 



Everything had changed since yesterday, and changed 

 for the worse. The broad window, out of which yesterday 

 afternoon she had leaned in the burning sunshine to see the 

 steam-launch puffing her way up the lake, was now closed 

 against the rain ; the dirty flounces of her best white frock, 

 that had been clean yesterday, now thrust themselves out 

 from under the lid of her trunk in disreputable reminder of 

 last night's escapade ; and Lady Dysart, who had been at 

 all events moderately friendly yesterday, now^ evidently con- 

 sidered that Francie had transgressed beyond forgiveness, 

 and had acquiesced so readily in Francie's suggestion oif 

 going home for luncheon, that her guest felt sorry that she 

 had not said breakfast. Even the padlock of her bonnet- 

 box refused to lock — was " going bandy with her," as she 

 put it in a phrase learnt from the Fitzpatrick cook — and she 

 was still battling with it when the sound of wheels on the 

 gravel warned her that the ordeal of farewell was at hand. 

 The blase calm with which Sarah helped her through the 

 presentation of Charlotte's half-crown made her feel her 

 social inferiority as keenly as the coldness of Lady Dysart's 

 adieux made her realise that she was going away in disgrace, 

 when she sought her hostess and tried to stammer out the 

 few words of orthodox gratitude that Charlotte had enjoined 

 her not to forget. 



Pamela, whose sympathies were always with the sinner, 

 was kinder than ever, even anxiously kind, as Francie dimly 

 perceived, and in some unexpected way her kindness 

 brought a lump into the throat of the departing guest. 

 Francie hurried mutely out on to the steps, where, in spite 

 of the rain, the dogs and Christopher were waiting to bid 

 her good-bye. 



" You are very punctual," he said. " I don't know why 

 you are in such a hurry to go away." 



" Oh, I think you've had quite enough of me," Francie 

 replied with a desperate attempt at gaiety. " I'm sure 

 you're all very glad to be shut of me." 



*' That isn't a kind thing to say, and I think you ought to 

 know that it is not true either." 



