“I assure you I should really like it,” responded the arch-deceiver. “I am fond of Cara, and I think she is fond of me; so if you care to make your arrangements, there is nothing whatever to prevent you going to the _matinée_.” After some half-hearted expostulations, and protestations, the whole thing was settled. Nurse Smithson was to have Saturday afternoon all to herself, from two till seven--so as to have ample time to go up to the camp to tea with her cousin--and as Letty walked back to lunch, she felt as if she was treading on air! Saturday, and this was Tuesday! She had written to Mrs. Hesketh, who vehemently opposed her scheme; but seeing that Letty was fully determined to kidnap Cara, reluctantly agreed to assist her. On Wednesday afternoon, she came down to Folkestone, in the hope of talking over her friend,--but this expectation was fruitless. The boot was on the other foot; it was Letty who talked _her_ over! She seemed changed: to have acquired a consciousness of power, an air of graceful assurance, and the faculty of making up her mind! At dinner, there was a truce between their wrestling personalities, but the new-comer resolved to have it out with her young friend, as subsequently they walked to the band on the lower Leas. “Remember, Letty, you lose five hundred a year,” she began, _à propos de rien_, as they approached the rendezvous of hundreds of crowded chairs, the brilliantly lit bandstand, and caught the flashes from Cape Grisnez--illuminating a glassy Channel--starred with the fishing fleet. “That is true,” assented her companion; “but then, I gain Cara, and, to _me_, she is worth ten times that sum.” “Then, my dear, perhaps you will also tell me how you propose to live?” was the dry enquiry. “I have saved two hundred pounds. Here are seats--what a crowd! I’ll pay the collector--it’s only coppers.” Mrs. Hesketh, not a whit propitiated, went on to state that two hundred pounds in the hands of a girl who knew nothing of money, would not go far. “Though,” she added, “of course _I_ will help you.” “No, no indeed,” protested Letty, putting down a strange dog that had sprung into her lap. “By and by I hope to earn my living, and I will ask you to draw, and to forward the interest on my legacy, and also to sell my pearls, my mother’s necklace. They are valuable; an Indian Rajah gave them to my father for something he had done--saved him from an assassin, I believe.” “Nonsense! No, I don’t mean about your father,” said her companion impatiently. “I have a plan; that is to say, if you are bent on carrying out this act of lunacy?” “I am--oh, dearest cousin Maudie, I _must_! You are strong and all-sufficient for yourself. I am a weak, invertebrate creature.” “Invertebrate--good word!” interrupted her friend. “And I must have something to live for--something to _love_.” “You had Lancelot Lumley.”