Olwen hesitated. Of course the Charm would be of no earthly good _there_, even if it were of any good at all, she thought, half fluttered, half ashamed of herself. One curious thing she had noticed about this Charm already. Alone with it, the whole incredible theory seemed real. Brought into contact with other people, it appeared nonsense. Still, since she was going to give it a trial, she might as well do it properly. For a moment she listened again to the lonely, talkative woman. "Oh, you know, I've always longed to give things! Only I've no one to give to. Shopping is lovely, but not when it's only for oneself----" "No," absently from Olwen (who sometimes felt she had all Carnarvonshire commissioning _her_ to shop for them as soon as she got to town). "That sachet----" she ventured presently, eyeing the case. "It's supposed to be a mascot, you know. To bring you luck." "Oh?" "Perhaps you don't believe in it? But if you wouldn't mind.... To please _me_," said Olwen. "I mean to please the Red Cross! If you'd _wear_ it!" "Oh, I must wear it, must I?" (Case opened; sachet pinned by a large pearl bar to the front of the thick white satin shirt.) "Er----Not quite like that," from Olwen. "It--I believe it has to be worn hidden. Out of sight somewhere." "Oh, yes. Very well." (Sachet unpinned, and refastened to the brocade lining of the tweed coat.) "There!" "But you take off your coat in the evening, don't you?" demurred Olwen, quite anxiously. Not alone this woman's history might be changed by the wearing of a Charm, but her own. It was her love-story, Olwen's! for which that Charm was to be put on trial, too. She drew breath quickly. "Miss Walsh! I'm so sorry to bother you! But it's something that has to be _always_ worn about you. Please would you mind pinning it right inside your blouse? Or--or to the top of your stays! French people often do wear a sachet there, don't they? Then I shall--I mean you'll always be sure about it...." "Oh, very well!" agreed Miss Walsh, smiling. She turned her back modestly upon Olwen, and by the movement of her elbows seemed to be busy with countless fastenings. Then she reached for a gold lace-pin from her pin-cushion. There were more jerks and fastenings-up, and presently she turned smiling to the girl. "I have safety-pinned it right in _there_," she announced, patting a slab of satin over Heaven (and Heaven alone) knew how many layers of Jaeger, whale-bone, coutille, and solid white embroidery, and long-cloth. "There! Will that be all right?" Olwen gave a little sigh; a breeze to carry the ship of this Adventure. It was launched! "Thank you," she said. Then she glanced at the hundred franc note in her hand. "But I do rather feel as if I'd got this under false pretences!" "Oh, no!" smiled the Spinster. "If the little mascot does really bring me so much Luck, it will be worth a few more francs, won't it?"