For some time after he had caught his 'bus and gone off to town she sat thinking. Golf, two afternoons a week--that would mean enjoyments in which she could take no part. She knew she was growing suspicious--well, she had enough to make her so. When the scales fall from blind eyes the eyes are not to be blamed for seeing. Some five minutes after Regina had come to this conclusion the door opened and Julia came in. "All alone, ducky?" she remarked. "Well, I _am_ late. I'd no idea daddy was gone." "Yes, you are late, or I fancy, to be correct, he was unusually early. He is almost killed with work--or I should say, over-work. However, he thinks he will get things straight in a few days and then it will be a little easier." "Dear daddy! I really don't see what use Mr. Chamberlain is to him," said Julia, holding out her hand for the coffee cup which her mother had just filled. "No, he is no help in a business sense, but he put the money into the concern. What are you going to do to-day, Julia?" Julia looked up in unmitigated astonishment. "To-day--oh--ah--I shall be out and about all day," she returned promptly. "I rather wanted you to go to town with me." "Awfully sorry, dear, I can't go to-day," Julia answered. Regina felt exactly as she might have felt if someone had flung a pail of cold water in her face. "I was going to the West End," she said half hesitatingly. "I thought you might like to go and see this new milliner of mine." "I should have loved it," said Julia, "if I had known before, but I've made several engagements for to-day." She did not vouchsafe any information as to her movements, and Regina hastened to explain things for Julia. "You are going with one of the Marksbys?" "No, I'm not. I'm going to lunch at the club, then I'm going to do a little shopping and later I'm going to tea with the Ponsonby-Piggots." "Really! Are you lunching at the club with somebody?" "No, I've somebody lunching with me." Again Regina felt that curious sensation of a douche of cold water administered over her entire person. Well, she had brought up her children to be independent, to have wills, caprices, likes and dislikes of their own, she could not blame them if they were not of the clinging, great-chum-with-mother type which she would have preferred them to be at this moment. "Suppose we make it a fixture for the day after to-morrow?" said Julia, helping herself to more delicate strips of bacon from the covered silver dish before her. "Yes, certainly." "Shall we lunch here or in town?" Julia went on. "Whichever you like."