No doubt about that! Claire smiled to herself as she realised how Mrs Judge would rejoice over the visit; turning one swallow into a summer, and in imagination beholding her daughter plunged into a very vortex of gaiety. She was still smiling, still considering, when Janet came strolling across the room, and laid her hand affectionately on Mrs Fanshawe's shoulder. "I haven't had a word with you all afternoon! Such a rush of people. You had tea comfortably, I hope: and you, too--Claire!" There was just a suspicion of hesitation before the Christian name. "I have just been asking Miss Gifford to take pity on my loneliness for part of August. She is not knee-deep in engagements, as you are, my dear, and that precious son of mine; so we are going to amuse each other, and see how much entertainment we can squeeze out of the countryside!" "But I haven't--I didn't--I'm not sure," stammered Claire, acutely conscious of the hardening of Janet's face, but once again Mrs Fanshawe waved aside her objections. "But _I_ am sure! It's all settled, my dear--all but the day. Put your address on this silly little tablet, and I'll write as soon as I've looked over my dates. Now, Janet, I'm ready for a chat. Take me out to the balcony, away from this crowd." "And I must go, I think. I'll say good-bye." Claire held out her hand to the daughter of the house. "I hope you may have a delightful summer." "Oh, thanks so much. Oh, yes, yes, I'm quite sure I will," Janet answered mechanically. She touched Claire's hand with her fingers, and turned hastily aside. CHAPTER NINETEEN. ERSKINE FANSHAWE'S HOME. Claire dreaded Mary Rhodes' curiosity on the subject of her proposed visit, but in effect there was none forthcoming. Cecil was too much engrossed in her own affairs to feel anything but a passing interest. "Some one you met at the Willoughbys'? Only the old lady? Rather you than me! Nice house though, I suppose; gardens, motors, that kind of thing. Dull, but luxurious. Perhaps you'll stay on permanently as her companion." "That," Claire said emphatically, "will never happen! I was thinking of clothes... I am quite well-off for evenings, and I can manage for afternoons, but I do think I ought to indulge in one or two `drastic bargains' for morning wear. I saw some particularly drastic specimens in Knightsbridge this week. Cecil ... could you--I hate asking, but _could_ you pay me back?" Cecil's stare of amazement was almost comical under the circumstances. "My--good--girl! I was really pondering whether I dare, I'm horribly hard up, and that's the truth. I've had calls..."