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granny.”
    â€œNo, no—it is I. Aunt Ursula, do for once!” Cynthia pleaded.
    Mrs. Davenant glanced at her anxious face coldly.
    â€œI do not see why it should be any satisfaction to you, but—”
    â€œYou will!” Cynthia cried, clasping her hands. “Aunt Ursula, it is perfectly sweet of you!”
    â€œThat is settled then!” Mrs. Davenant took up a paper as though to intimate that the interview was ended.
    Cynthia turned to Joan.
    â€œIs it not perfectly delightful? About your dress? Of course you have nothing”—with a disparaging glance at the blue serge—“but I dare say, for me, Madame Benoit would get one done in time.”
    â€œAh, that will be my affair!” Mrs. Davenant had caught the whispered words. “Do not trouble Benoit, Cynthia. I may have lived out of the world for some time, but I imagine I am still capable of ordering my granddaughter’s dresses.”
    â€œOh, of course, of course! You know I did not mean that, Aunt Ursula!”
    Cynthia was glad to get out of the room.
    â€œHorrid old thing!” she whispered to Joan. “How you stand her I cannot imagine. However, you are coming to the ball, that is the great thing. I wish she would have let me order the gown, though; she is sure to get something awful. I would order you one myself, independently of her and make you change, but really there have been so many expenses of late, Reggie has been frightfully extravagant, and I have not been a bit lucky at bridge, so that—”
    â€œAs if I should let you! No, Granny must do her best, or her worst, and if I come to your dance like a frump—well, you must just turn me away, that’s all.”
    When Joan waved her last farewell to Mrs. Trewhistle, and that lady’s motor was speeding swiftly down the drive she found a footman at her elbow.
    â€œMrs. Davenant would be glad to see you again, miss.” Joan went slowly back to the morning-room, the momentary brightening caused by Cynthia’s presence fading from her face.
    â€œYou wanted me, granny?” she said on the threshold.
    â€œYes.” Mrs. Davenant took up a fresh sheet of paper and dipped her pen in the ink. “Come in and close the door, Joan. So you are going to have your wish—you are going to Cynthia’s dance? And now—now I am thinking how I can best fulfil another request of yours.”
    â€œIndeed!” Joan raised her eyebrows slightly as she obeyed the old lady’s request. “So much of my own way will surely be bad for me, granny. I shall be getting a swelled head. What is this request of mine that you have in your mind now? I was under the impression that I had carefully abstained from making any.”
    Mrs. Davenant watched her face keenly.
    â€œPossibly you have forgotten this; you may even have changed your mind; it is years since I heard you mention it. But when you first came—Ah, I see you remember it!” as Joan changed colour—“you used to ask me to send for Evelyn, to find Evelyn. Well, now,” with one of the laughs that Joan hated, “I am going to write to Mr. Hurst, bidding him to set to work to find Evelyn!”

Chapter Four
    â€œY OU LOOK just the same as usual, Joan.”
    â€œThat does not sound complimentary,” said Joan, an amused look in her eyes. “I am afraid that if you expected a transformation you will be disappointed, Cynthia.”
    â€œOh, you know what I mean! I thought that Aunt Ursula, having allowed you to come, would have given you heaps of new things. Not but what you look very nice, Joan”—with an apologetic kiss—“and as long as the gown for to-night is all right—what is it like?”
    Joan shrugged her shoulders.
    â€œWhite, that is all I can tell you. A young woman came down from town to fit me, but the frock itself I have never seen.”
    â€œJoan!” Cynthia interrupted her with a little