"I wish we could do something for her to make things brighter." "Let us ask Cis--" and then Miss Lutworth paused, returning to her first thought--she knew her hostess well.

No, it could not bring any pleasure into the life of this slender, lithe English lady with the wonderful Greek name, to be made acquainted with Cecilia Cricklander, who would tear her to pieces without compunction the moment she understood in what direction John Derringham's eyes would probably be cast.

He saw Cora's hesitation and understood, and was grateful.
"I believe this girl is trumps.

I don't think she will even mention our meeting," he said to himself.
Now for a few steps Miss Lutworth drew Arabella Clinker on ahead.
"Arabella, you dear," she whispered, "I don't want to say a word against Cis--who, of course, is all right--but I have a feeling we won't tell her we've met this dryad of a Halcyone La Sarthe.

Have you got that instinct, too ?" "Quite strongly," said Arabella, who never wasted words.