"Nothing of the sort. There's the motor for you if you want to go and see anybody." Helena considered. "Oh, I should like to do one thing," she said. "It won't take long. May I get some flowers for Archie's room and Jessie's? Flowers do look so cool and refreshing when you've been a day and a night in the train." "Of course you may. It was nice of you to think of that. But then you do think of rather nice things for other people." "Oh, shut up, Cousin Marion," laughed the girl. * * * * * Helena retired to the table in the window with her materials and proceeded to execute a very neat and simple piece of work. The entries in Lady Tintagel's engagement-book were only made in pencil, and she erased the inconvenient Lady Awcock's name from the evening some fortnight ahead and wrote in its place that of the giver of the Russian party, to whom instead of a refusal she sent a line, in her cousin's name, of grateful acceptance. Then she wrote a charming little letter of penitence to Lady Awcock, abasing herself and at the same time pitying herself. She had done the stupidest thing; for she had accepted Lady Awcock's invitation on an evening when they were already engaged. The letter proceeded: "I can't tell you how disappointed I am, dear Lady Awcock, for I was so looking forward to another talk with you, and to hear more of those interesting things you told me; but perhaps, if I have not disgusted you beyond forgiveness, you would ask me again some day. And would you be wonderfully kind and not tell Lady Tintagel what a stupid thing I have done, for she lets me keep her engagement-book for her, and if she knew, I am afraid she would never trust me again." This last touch thoroughly pleased Helena; it was confiding and childlike. For the rest she relied on Cousin Marion not happening to remember that they had once accepted an invitation to Lady Awcock's, and, even if she did have some impression of it, her engagement-book, with no such entry appearing in it, would show her that her memory had played her false. But probably Cousin Marion would remember nothing whatever about it; indeed, in the multiplicity of engagement, it seemed to Helena that the risk she ran was negligible.