about hers, if she chose. They were
both interested, they explained, in the Suffragist movement; also they
had charities to look after. There was no time to bother with Mary's
shopping, but of course she could have their maid, Jennings, to go out
with: in fact, she must not attempt to go alone. Consequently, Mary
bought only necessaries, in the big, confusing shops that glared white
in the foggy twilight, for Jennings as a companion was more depressing
than the cold. She was middle-aged, very pinched and respectable in
appearance, with a red nose, always damp at the end; and she disapproved
of lace and ribbons on underclothing. Mrs. Home-Davis and Miss Elinor
would never think of buying such things as Miss Grant admired. Jennings
would have pioneered Miss Grant to the British and South Kensington
museums if Miss Grant had wished to go, but Mary had no appetite for
museums in the dark and forbidding November, which was the worst that
London had known for years. Her aunt never suggested a theatre, or the
opera, or anything which Mary was likely to find amusing, for a plan
decided upon with Elinor was being faithfully carried out. The convent
cousin was to be disgusted with Cromwell Road, and bored with London, so
that she might be ready to snatch at the first excuse to get away. And
once away, Mrs. Home-Davis promised Elinor to find some pretext for
refusing to receive her back again.

The plan succeeded perfectly, though, had the ladies but guessed, no
complicated manoeuvres would have been necessary, Mary having determined
upon escape in the moment of arrival. She was shut up in her room for a
few days with a cold, after she had been a week in Cromwell Road, and
when she was let out, after all danger of infection for her relatives
had passed, she dared to propose Italy as a cure for herself.

"I know you have important engagements," Mary said, hastily, "and of
course you couldn't go with me at such short notice; but I don't feel as
if I could wait. I may be ill on your hands. I feel as if I should be,
unless I run away where it's warm and bright."

Mrs. Home-Davis, much as she wanted to take the girl at her word, could
not resist retorting: "It's not very bright and warm in Scotland at this
time of year, yet you don't seem to have been ill there."

Mary could have replied that in the convent she had had the warmth and
brightness of love, but she merely mumbled that she had often taken
cold in the autumn.

"It will