mportance to discuss with you."

For it was always to the drawing-room they retired when they wanted to
talk over Kate.

Josephine closed the door meaningly. "Sit down, Constantia," she said,
still very grand. She might have been receiving Constantia for the
first time. And Con looked round vaguely for a chair, as though she felt
indeed quite a stranger.

"Now the question is," said Josephine, bending forward, "whether we
shall keep her or not."

"That is the question," agreed Constantia.

"And this time," said Josephine firmly, "we must come to a definite
decision."

Constantia looked for a moment as though she might begin going over all
the other times, but she pulled herself together and said, "Yes, Jug."

"You see, Con," explained Josephine, "everything is so changed now."
Constantia looked up quickly. "I mean," went on Josephine, "we're not
dependent on Kate as we were." And she blushed faintly. "There's not
father to cook for."

"That is perfectly true," agreed Constantia. "Father certainly doesn't
want any cooking now, whatever else--"

Josephine broke in sharply, "You're not sleepy, are you, Con?"

"Sleepy, Jug?" Constantia was wide-eyed.

"Well, concentrate more," said Josephine sharply, and she returned
to the subject. "What it comes to is, if we did"--and this she barely
breathed, glancing at the door--"give Kate notice"--she raised her voice
again--"we could manage our own food."

"Why not?" cried Constantia. She couldn't help smiling. The idea was so
exciting. She clasped her hands. "What should we live on, Jug?"

"Oh, eggs in various forms!" said Jug, lofty again. "And, besides, there
are all the cooked foods."

"But I've always heard," said Constantia, "they are considered so very
expensive."

"Not if one buys them in moderation," said Josephine. But she tore
herself away from this fascinating bypath and dragged Constantia after
her.

"What we've got to decide now, however, is whether we really do trust
Kate or not."

Constantia leaned back. Her flat little laugh flew from her lips.

"Isn't it curious, Jug," said she, "that just on this one subject I've
never been able to quite make up my mind?"

Chapter 3.XI.

She never had. The whole difficulty was to prove anything. How did one
prove things, how could one? Suppose Kate had stood in front of her
and deliberately made a face. Mightn't she very well have been in pain?
Wasn't it impossible, at any rate, to ask Kate if she was m