Mrs. Cossart’s ordinarily placid face darkened; that was exactly her own feeling, and she did not like it. The Dumaresqs were undeniably the “best” people at the hotel. The mother had arranged to spend this winter in Madeira partly that Effie might have the opportunity of making friends on equal terms with persons of a higher social standing than were attainable at home. It had even passed through her mind that Ronald Dumaresq would be a good match for her daughter. Hitherto she had never thought of Effie’s leaving her, but something the last doctor had said had put the notion into her head. “Take her away and throw her with a lot of strangers. Let her mix with other people and get fresh interests. She has been too much shut up and thrown upon herself. Her nerves want bracing, and there is nothing like change of scene and companionship for that. You say she has never had a ‘disappointment,’ so much the better. She may find the right man for a husband one of these days, and in some respects that would be the best thing possible.” So Mrs. Cossart, for the first time in her life, was rather disposed to make schemes for her daughter’s matrimonial settlement. “Didn’t they ask you too?” she asked. “It would only have been polite.” Effie made her little defiant gesture with head and shoulders. “I don’t think grand people who are thought so much of are very polite. I suppose they think themselves too grand. Besides, they know I don’t like the horses here. But don’t you trouble about me, mother. I am all right. I don’t want a lot of strangers to run after. I don’t care to make myself cheap, like Sheila. I am quite happy with my books and work up here, and the garden to walk in. I never was one for always gadding. I think it’s charming to sit here in the sunshine and watch the sea. I get tired of all the silly babble that amuses Sheila. It’s more interesting to think one’s own thoughts. I have lots of thoughts. Perhaps I shall write them down some day when I’m stronger. I shouldn’t like to be always hanging on to other people. I’m not made like that.” “Yes, I am afraid Sheila is very forward; I shall have to put a stop to her goings on, I think. People are beginning to talk about her. She was brought to be a companion for you, and she is always off with other people.” “Oh, don’t think I want her,” cried Effie, laughing. “I get quite enough of her as it is, I assure you! We are good enough friends, but Sheila has such a shallow mind. I get tired of her. I like to go deeper into things; but when I talk she always either laughs or goes rattling off about some tennis match or cricket, or picnic. I can’t make things like that the aim and object of my existence.” “But we want you to get out and see people, dear.”