She conned over her few relations; some cousins in town, busy in trying to make their very small income provide them a modicum of pleasure, combined with a sphere of usefulness. They had visited her at the manor house from time to time, and had envied her, her peaceful environment. Then there was her father's brother living at a ranch in Australia, with a large growing family of sons and daughters. Finally there was an old cousin of her mother's, a Lady Lucy Harcourt, who lived about ten miles off with a companion, who had been with her for about twenty years. It was this cousin who came uppermost in her mind now. "I think I shall go over to her, and get some advice. She's practical and sensible. Of course, I must do something at once. There is no time to be lost." But she did not retrace her steps, she walked on for a couple of miles through pinewoods, and taking shelter in the depths of them, seated herself on a fallen tree-trunk to review the situation. It was a good two hours later when she returned to her home; and then found that the very person she was needing had arrived in her car to lunch, and was waiting for her in the drawing-room. Lady Lucy looked at the girl critically as she entered the room. Anstice was tall and fair with deep blue eyes and pale gold hair which was coroneted round her head in a very unfashionable manner. She had determination in her chin and lips, sunny good temper in her eyes, and two dimples which came and went in her softly rounded cheeks. "My dear!" exclaimed Lady Lucy. "You look blooming! What a complexion you have, and all without any artificial aid! It is good to be young." Anstice laughed as she put up a hand to her blushing cheeks. "I've been out in the wind and rain, Cousin Lucy. I never expected you over such an afternoon as this, but oh! I am glad to see you—" Then soberness crept into her eyes and stayed there. "It is nearly a month," she said, "since father left me, and only to-day did Mr. Stone tell me exactly what I may expect in the way of income. It has staggered me." "I feared it would," said Lady Lucy gravely. "I knew more than you, poor child, have known. I should think you are left without a penny-piece!" "That is a fact—twenty-five pounds a year. I must earn something at once. I am not afraid of work, and I am young and strong, but my capabilities for earning are almost nil." "I have come over to-day for the express purpose of talking matters over with you. But all my ideas have been turned topsy-turvy by a visitor who arrived last night. I have just seen him off by train. Is that your luncheon bell? I may stay, may I not?" "I shall be delighted. It is so good to have some one to talk to. I have been alone since—since his funeral."