Mrs. Hesketh and her goddaughter had always been secretly antagonistic to one another, and as days went by, this feeling increased--especially on the side of the girl, who, from a reluctant parent, had extracted the fact that the meddling old woman suggested sending her for one year to an English school! Nevertheless she dissembled her sentiments,--for the old hag was rich and had it in her power to offer motor trips by land and water, and to give delightful _déjeuners_ and dinners at the various fashionable hotels. Naturally all these pleasures were for the sake of the Mum--but she participated! At this season (early in July) Lucerne was already full, and Cara, erect, well dressed, and self-conscious, was sensible of being the admired of many eyes, as she accompanied her two chaperons. Occasionally she left them, and escaped to join her own friends, Colette Vadier, Freda Muller, and Berthe Baer, in picnics and teas. Her society was not missed, as her mother and godmother had many matters to discuss, that were not intended for her ears. How and where the Glyns were to live? was a question seriously debated. Letty still figuratively clung to the Continent, and Mrs. Hesketh and Cara--for once in accord--were strongly in favour of a home in England. On this subject, the girl and her godmother, had some talks, and on one of these rare occasions, Cara posed as the poor exile, craving to see her native land, and to live like other young women of her age and nation. “Dear godmother,” she said effusively, “how I wish you would use your influence with the Mum!” Then, leaning her elbows on her knees, locking her hands, and assuming a confidential attitude, she added, “To me, it always seems so strange that we have no English belongings, no letters except yours, and we have lived at Les Plans for thirteen years! It almost looks”--she spoke with bated breath, staring into her listener’s face with eyes as hard as two blue glass marbles--“as if--of course, only to you would I breathe it----” “Well, breathe it!” urged Mrs. Hesketh impatiently. “As if,” and Cara’s voice fell to an awed whisper, “Mummy had--_done_ something!” Her godmother examined the girl from under her beautifully marked brows, with a cold and critical scrutiny. Was it for this disloyal wretch, that poor Letty had sacrificed youth, and love, and country? Her face was rigid as she answered: “Your mother has her own excellent reasons for living abroad. This life of labour and self-denial has been for your sake; for you, she has made great sacrifices. I hope you are grateful, Cara?”