Of late, she had spent most of the year in Lucerne, not merely in winter with her mother in the Weggisgasse, but in summer too. There was such difficulty about coming and going from Les Plans; the hours of the steamers, did not suit; the child’s education must not be neglected, and after considerable demur, and pressure, it had been arranged for Cara to board with the family of one of her friends, and attend the convent as an _externe_, returning home for week-ends, and all holidays. Her godmother had insisted on paying for her education, and her mother reluctantly submitted; for in spite of good prices for lace, the work was tedious, and Cara’s expenses for dress and amusement had become surprisingly heavy. She displayed an extravagant fancy for expensive hats and frocks and shoes,--and when she wanted money--an overpowering seductiveness, that her mother was totally unable to resist. Cara’s sweet kisses, caresses, and endearing epithets, were as balm to a heart that was starving for love, and she plied her needle bravely in order that the child should look nice, and--as a natural sequence--be happy. The ‘child’ ran accounts in her mother’s name at Schweizer’s and other shops, and when the bills presented themselves in the shape of so many shocks, Cara would excuse herself by saying, in an airy way: “Well, darling Mum, it’s all your own fault! Ever since I was a baby you have made a fuss about dressing me, and don’t I do you credit?” She did; there was no denying the fact. In a beautifully cut embroidered linen, and a simple French hat, Cara might be remarked at Hurlingham or Ranelagh, but she was a little out of keeping with her background in a farm kitchen--where, being in a hurry to catch the boat, she gobbled her hasty _déjeuner_ of rice and stewed veal.