"How?" said Caroline, she laughed, but it was a wretched laugh. "Indeed, I scarcely know. I think I have attracted him just because I have been truthful with him. I have never once pretended that I liked him. I have given him more home-thrusts than I fancy he has had from anybody else. And he only wants me because he thinks I am not easy to get. At the same time," Caroline said, "I must do him this justice. He gave me a promise, it was not a little thing, indeed, remembering what he is, it was a big thing; and up to now he has kept this promise. I am only afraid he won't keep it much longer. He is getting tired," Caroline said, with a break in her voice. "I saw a difference in his manner when he was here the other day. If I lose my power of attraction," the girl's voice was bitter, "I am afraid all I have tried to do will be so much wasted work." They paced to and fro and were silent a long time. Then Agnes Brenton said-- "I must enter into this. I have every right to do so. I am glad now that Sammy is so near. I shall send and ask him to come and see me without further delay." Then she reproached Caroline. "Why did you not bring this trouble to me at once?" Caroline caught her breath with a sigh. "I suppose we all try to do clever things once in our life." Then she took Mrs. Brenton's hand and carried it to her lips. "I did not want you to have more to bear, dear friend. You were so unhappy, and I believed I should be able to keep this away from you always." In a low voice a moment later, Caroline said-- "When she comes to-morrow, you will say nothing to her?" and Agnes Brenton promised this. Later, when she was alone with her husband, she surprised him by observing with some vehemence. "Dick, I give you full permission to call me a fool whenever you feel inclined to do so." Mr. Brenton looked up from his latest treasure, an old French book which he had picked up in a day's excursion to Rouen. "I will start at once, if it will give you any satisfaction, my dear," he said, in his gentle way. CHAPTER XIX The children were in the wildest state of excitement at the prospect of seeing "mother." They quarrelled when they were having their hair brushed as to the time she would arrive, and what she would come in. Baby declared Mummy would arrive in a boat, at which Betty scoffed openly. "A boat doesn't go on the road. She'll come in a motor." And Betty was right. Camilla arrived in the smartest and latest of automobiles; she was exquisitely dressed in white, and caused a flutter in the little toy watering-place, which, with so many of its kind, stud the coast of Normandy. She came not alone. There were two men and another woman with her. Mrs. Brenton and Caroline and the children were down on the digue when she arrived, and as the children caught sight of their pretty mother and rushed to greet her, Agnes Brenton caught Caroline by the wrist. "There is no occasion to send for Sammy," she said; "Camilla has brought him."