She was afraid lest her face should betray her surprise and discomfiture at the question.

And yet, what more natural than that her well-to-do, kind-hearted sister-in-law should wish to know how she, Enid, was now situated?
Cecil Crofton's widow was not what ordinary people would have called a clever woman, but during the whole of her short life she had studied how to please, cajole, and yes--deceive, the men and women about her.
Unfortunately for her, Alice Crofton was a type of woman with whom she had never before been brought in contact; and something deep within her told her that she had better stick as close to the truth as was reasonably possible with this shrewd spinster who was, in some ways, so disconcertingly like what Enid Crofton's late husband had been, in the days when he had been a forlorn girl-widow's protecting friend and ardent admirer.
Yet, even so, she began with a lie: "When my mother died last year she left me a little money.

I thought it wise to spend it in getting this house, and in settling down here." She said the words in a very low voice, and as Miss Crofton said nothing for a moment, she added timidly:--"I do hope that you think I did right?
I know people think it wrong to use capital, but the War has changed everything, including money, and one simply can't get along at all without paying out sums which before the War would have seemed dreadful." "That's very true," said Miss Crofton finally.
Enid, feeling on sure ground now, went on: "Why, I had to pay a premium of L200 for the lease of this little house.

But I'm told I could get that again--even after living for a year or two in it." Miss Crofton began looking about her with a doubtful air: "I suppose you mean to spend the winter here," she said musingly, "and then let the house each summer ?" "Yes," said Enid, "that is my idea." As a matter of fact, she had never thought of doing such a thing, though she saw the point of it, now that it was put by her sister-in-law.

She hoped, however, that long before next summer her future would be settled on most agreeable lines.
"Then I suppose the balance of what your mother left you forms a little addition to your pension, and to what poor Cecil was able to leave you ?" As the other hesitated, Miss Crofton went on, in a very friendly tone:--"I hope you won't think it interfering that I should speak as I am doing?
I expected to find you much less comfortably circumstanced, and I was going to propose that I should increase what I had feared would be a very small income, by two hundred a year." Enid was as much touched by this unexpected generosity as it was in her to be, and it was with an accent of real sincerity that she exclaimed:--"Oh, Alice, you _are_ kind! Of course two hundred a year would be a _great_ help.