The afternoon succeeding the fête, Letty, unaware of any lurking pitfalls, descended to the Paradis, accompanied by Cara, and Mrs. Hesketh, with a tremor in her heart, invited them to tea in a retired summer-house in the grounds. Here they would be safe. As she sipped weak tea, she noticed Letty’s haggard white face, testifying to a sleepless night, the girl’s feverish restlessness, and roving, dissatisfied eyes. It had long been planned that Tomlin was to have ‘an afternoon in Lucerne,’ accompanied by Cara as companion and courier, since the British maid could not speak a word of any language but her own. They were to visit the panoramas, the museum, and the shops, and details of the expedition were being finally discussed, when Mrs. Plassy and her daughter strolled by arm in arm. For a moment Mrs. Hesketh’s heart stood still, then throbbed on--the danger had passed! No--by bad luck Cara gave one of her loud, somewhat foolish laughs--her mother had spilt her tea. Mrs. Plassy deliberately halted, turned about, and approached. “Oh, dear Mrs. Hesketh,” she exclaimed, with lifted hands, “how charming you all look! How much pleasanter to have tea out of doors.” Then, glancing at Letty, she paused, and in a different key added, “I think I have met--Mrs.--er--Mrs.----” “Glyn,” added Mrs. Hesketh precipitately. “Oh, yes,” with a slight bow, and steadily regarding her she added, with deadly significance: “_I know!_” Then, turning to her daughter, “Lyddy, you have met Mrs. Glyn at Cannes.” Lyddy smiled and stared--her expression implied that she, too, knew all. “And this young lady?” she asked, turning to Cara. “My daughter,” replied Letty in a faint voice. “Are you staying here, Mrs. Glyn?” enquired Mrs. Plassy, and her tone was frigid and judicial. “I did not see your name in the hotel list.” “Oh, no,” broke in Cara, attracted by these fashionable strangers, “we live in a farm up the hill, called Les Plans.” “How absolutely delightful!” murmured Miss Plassy. “It must be so healthy--and so secluded,” and she threw Letty a significant glance. “No, it’s horrid!” declared Cara rebelliously. “Won’t you sit down, and have some tea?” urged Mrs. Hesketh (who appreciated the crisis at its full value). “There is plenty of room, and I’ll send for more cups.” “I’ve finished,” announced Cara, rising as she spoke and offering her seat to Mrs. Plassy, who sank into it with an air of satisfaction, saying to herself as she drew off her gloves, “This will save me three francs!” “I don’t want any tea, thank you,” said Lydia Plassy, “so Miss Glyn and I will stroll about, and make one another’s acquaintance.” “Yes, a capital idea!” assented her parent. “Do you two girls go off and amuse one another, and we old people will talk of old times.”