"Lucia, the tent," she said, as if sternly introducing them to each other.
The girl made a rapid and sketchy toilet, and with her hair down her back was sitting again outside when Aunt Cathie returned
"Two for you, Lucia," she said.
"I hope you have not brought mine," said Elizabeth.
"Couldn't. There weren't any. There's the paper for you."
Elizabeth sighed.
"I suppose as we get old it is very natural that people should forget us," she said. "Only it seems strange that there should be two for Lucia and none for me. Let me look at them, Lucia, to see there is no mistake. I remember last year you opened a letter of mine, no doubt by accident, but such accidents are very annoying."
"Miss Lucia Grimson—Miss Lucia Grimson!" said Lucia.
Aunt Elizabeth took them and turned them over, as if expecting to find another address on the back. Then she looked at the postmarks, one of which was Brixham.
"One of your letters has come from Brixham," she said. "It will be pleasant to hear what news there is. Who is your correspondent?"
Elizabeth was notable for her intense curiosity about other people's letters. She would not go so far as to read letters that were left about, but she constantly, by means of questions, direct or indirect, tried to glean their contents. Though she never remembered arriving at any sensational disclosure, she pursued her passion with avidity.
Lucia opened her letter, saw there were four sides of writing, and that it was from Lord Brayton, and instantly put it into its envelope again.
"It is from Lord Brayton," she said; "he acknowledges the safe receipt of a book I sent to him."
But Elizabeth, too, had seen there were four sides of writing.
"He makes a somewhat voluble acknowledgment," she remarked bitterly.
Lucia smiled with perfect good-humour.
"Yes, doesn't he?" she said.
She read her other letter, which was from Maud, and communicated the contents. She proposed to come for her visit during the first week of September, if that suited. Then, without the slightest appearance of hurry, Lucia got up.
