Mrs. Colebrook looked over her glasses at the wondering Evie. "Mother! How perfectly splendid!" But Mrs. Colebrook was not so enthusiastic. Change of any kind was anathema. She had acted as housekeeper in her younger days, so that the work had no terrors for her, but--abroad! Foreign countries meant peril. Foreigners to her were sinister men who carried knives, and were possessed of homicidal tendencies. They spoke a language expressly designed to conceal their evil intentions, and they found their recreation in plotting in underground chambers. There was a cinema at the end of Walter Street. "There is something written on the other side," said Evie suddenly. Mrs. Colebrook turned the sheet. "The invitation extends to your younger daughter, if she would care to accompany you." "Well!" said Evie, and flew up the stairs to Christina's room. "Christina! What do you think! Mother has had a letter from a house agent offering--" "Don't tell me!" Christina interrupted, "let me guess! They've offered her a beautiful house in the country rent free--no? Then they've offered--let me think--a house in a nice warm climate where I can bask in the sunshine and watch the butterflies flirting with the roses!" Evie's jaw dropped. "Whatever made you think--?" Christina snatched the letter and read, her eyes bright with excitement. "Oh, golly!" she said and laughed so long that Evie grew alarmed. "No, I'm not mad, and I'm not clairvoyant. Mother, what do you think of it?" Mrs. Colebrook had followed her daughter upstairs. "I don't know what to think," she said. She was one of those people who welcome an opportunity to show their indecision. Mrs. Colebrook liked to be "persuaded", though she might make up her mind irrevocably, it was necessary that argument round and about should be offered, before she yielded her tentative agreement. Nobody knew this better than Christina. She drew a long sigh of relief, recognising the signs. "We'll talk it over after Evie has gone to her pill-shop," she said, and for once Evie did not contest a description of her place of business, which usually provoked her to retort. "I only want to say, mother, that you need not worry about me. I can get lodgings at one of the girl's hostels. I don't think I want to go abroad. In fact, I know that I don't. But it would be fine for Christina. It is my dream come true. I've always had that plan for her--a place where she could sit in the sunshine and watch the flowers grow." Christina's smile was all loving-kindness; she took the girl's fingers in her hand and pinched them softly. "Off to your workshop, woman," she ordered. "Mother and I want to talk about the sunny south." "I'm not sure that I can take it," said Mrs. Colebrook dismally, "I don't like the idea of living in a foreign place--" "We'll discuss that," said Christina in her businesslike way. "Did those linoleum patterns come?" VI