But of course she knew
better than to tell Mrs. Wyburn that.

"Oh yes, you heard that. I believe he does admire her very much. But I
hope I'm not going to lose Daphne yet."

Something in her expression warned Mrs. Wyburn, who said
affectionately--

"Well, there's plenty of time; she's _so_ young. I don't believe in
girls marrying till they're sensible women and know something of
housekeeping, and are fitted to deal with their servants."

"I hope you haven't been having any more trouble with yours lately?"

"Indeed I have! I had just sent for the housemaid to give her notice
because she never dusts the lustres properly, when she turned round and
gave it--notice, I mean--to _me_!"

"What a blessing! It saved you the trouble."

"On the contrary, if you knew anything of domestics, Valentia, you would
see that it put me in a most awkward position--most awkward; and now I
shall have to live at Mrs. Hunt's!"

"To live at Mrs. Hunt's?" repeated Val, as if stupefied. "Why, you're
not going to leave your charming house? And who is Mrs. Hunt?--an old
friend of yours?"

"Don't you really know who Mrs. Hunt is, Valentia?" Mrs. Wyburn's voice
trembled.

"No; I haven't the faintest idea."

"She's a Registry Off----Well, may you never know! Certainly I'm not
going to leave my house. The idea of such a thing!"

"Oh, I'm _so_ glad," said Val, getting up. "I'm afraid I must leave it,
though. I have so many little things to do before I go. Now, Mrs.
Wyburn, take great care of yourself, and I do _hope_ you'll get a nice
housemaid quite soon. That sort of thing is so worrying, isn't it?"

Mrs. Wyburn accompanied her to the door, and as usual stood on the
landing with her, complaining of various troubles, and finally parted
with caressing words and advice about going for country clothes to "a
little dressmaker--quite near here--who runs up one's blouses and
skirts."

"Does she? Fancy! She must be small! Good-bye!"...

... "What a woman!" murmured Val as she got into the carriage.

"What a wife for Romer!" exclaimed Mrs. Wyburn as the door shut.

CHAPTER XIV

A SUGGESTION

Miss Luscombe, humming a tune, was wandering round her drawing-room,
arranging it. She always hummed a little tune when she was alone, if
possible some quaint old French air. Not that she was really alone now;
only her invisible mother was with her. To do her justice, Flora took as
much trouble to impress this almost imperceptible audience as