Aunt Lavvy would be the ideal chaperone for a young girl. Undoubtedly, too, Doug must adore the little porcelain lady; and she in her turn would be entirely captivated by the big, boyish, sunny-hearted Doug. Ursula smiled, imagining the harmonious trio ... the smile twisted into mockery, as she recited to herself Aunt Lavvy’s outburst of sweet and silvery indignation on discovery that Ursula could have wantonly deserted _such_ a man; “But then Ursula always was queer and headstrong, under her quiet ways!” And very, very tactfully she would console Doug’s perplexity; or, if he roughly blamed himself, argue with him; at last, guide him to see that the catastrophe was no catastrophe at all, but a blessing in disguise: “The false princess has slipped out of your life, Boy” (Yes, she would call him Boy) “but the real little princess is not so far away ... is she? In a year or two perhaps you will be able to fit her with the glass slipper.” Ursula could hear Aunt Lavvy tinkling out some such speech; her voice lifted to a second’s arch raillery as she spoke of the “real little princess,” and then her plump hand resting lightly for a moment on Doug’s bowed head: “You know, Boy, I may be old-fashioned, but I am not so narrow-minded as to think that one mistake should spoil your whole life----” “Oh well, she always hated me!” thought Ursula, stamping her letter, and with a shrug dismissing the envisioned scene of a week hence. Anyhow, she would be gone. The night train from Gullick, by which she and Louis had planned to travel, left Gullick at seven-twenty-three p. m., exactly ten minutes before the arrival of the express from London, with Aunt Lavvy. “Let me see, Doug will give up our room to Aunt Lavvy, of course, and sleep in his cabin berth. Christine needn’t move out of the sea-room.” And once again she paused, before dropping the letter into the box: “She understands things ... clever little Aunt Lavvy. She can’t fail to wonder, afterwards, why I invited her--at such a selfish crisis of my life. Oh _damn_--she’ll guess more than other people. She always did. That time over Hal and the room. _Let_ her wonder and guess!” The letter was viciously hurled through the slit. “She’ll come, in the first place, because she’s curious. And she’ll stay because she’s comfortable and because I’m in black disgrace, which is bound to be soothing; and because poor Doug is my victim, and he and Chris are a pair of babes in worldly matters--and mainly because the situation is dramatic and needs delicate handling. Her gifts don’t get much chance to be used with only mother and father and Lottie and William at home now.” Aunt Lavvy accepted the invitation, saying gracefully that she was looking forward to a better acquaintance with her nephew-in-law, whom she had only very occasionally met at the Laburnums dinner-table.