Her good resolutions with respect to money were soon broken; she purchased some extra furniture for her two rooms, a reliable lamp, a tea-set, baths, and actually invested in a piano which cost, second-hand, thirty pounds--but her love for music almost amounted to a passion; the instrument was installed in Frau Hurter’s quaint and low-pitched sitting-room, and here, when Cara was asleep, her mother enjoyed an hour or two of undiluted pleasure. Frequent letters from Mrs. Hesketh were delivered at the farm, and Letty heard of the sensation created by her abduction, and how there had been flaring paragraphs in the papers, in which her name had figured; but soon interest had slackened--it was less than a nine days’ wonder. “You will be left in peace with Cara,” wrote Letty’s friend, “Hugo will not set the detective after you; if your theft had been a son and heir, by this time you would be languishing in gaol.” The season waned by degrees; many of the steamers were laid up, the great hotels closed, and winter descended from the mountains. By and by came grey short days, and Les Plans was swallowed up in snow. Letty had her piano and sewing, her books and her child: Frau Hurter and Freda were busy with knitting and spinning, Fritz with his lessons and outdoor games--and he sometimes condescended to play with Cara. His father had been Italian, and from him, he had inherited his dark eyes, and his gay temperament. The climate proved trying to an unaccustomed foreigner, and the food was not appetising. In October, three of the dissatisfied pigs were slain, and made into ham and sausages, as provisions for the winter. As a menu of sausages, bread, coffee, and cheese palled after a time, the boarder supplemented the fare from her own purse, and secretly resolved to spend the next winter in Lucerne itself, returning to Les Plans with the spring. By the end of the second year Mrs. Glyn found herself seriously embarrassed for money. Alas! the two hundred pounds had dissolved like snowflakes in the sun; she had been obliged to dismiss Magda, and was now nurse--a somewhat onerous post; she had wasted far too much on follies: such as embroideries and pretty shoes and hats for Cara, but whatever happened, and whoever was pinched, it should _never_ be the child. The pretty Englishwoman had made a few friends in the commercial world, who were impressed by her air, her beauty, her voice, and maternal devotion. Thanks to these kind friends in the Weggisgasse, she found music pupils, and had learnt to execute embroidery and lace, for which the town is famous, and was fortunate enough to find regular customers in one of the big shops; so that by working industriously, she became self-supporting, and was moderately content.