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And the more they talked it over, the more awkward appeared the complication. Or at least, Marion talked Cissy into thinking there was nothing for it but to go on with the plan.

“For indeed,” said Marion, by way of triumphantly summing up her argument, “I am under promise to Lady Severn to undertake the post, if she thinks me suitable. And I couldn’t go back from a promise.”

So, tired of discussion and rather bewildered by Marion’s eloquence, poor Cissy gave in, sorely against her will.

“It really will be great fun, putting every thing else aside,” said Marion. “Remember, Cissy, you must never call me ‘my cousin,’ or ‘Miss Vere.’ Fortunately we have no English servants with us, and Charlie always calls me May. Then all my letters, which won’t be many, come under cover to you. It will all answer beautifully.”

”I am sorry I can’t join you in seeing anything beautiful about the whole affair from beginning to end,” said Cissy,” but having given in, I must not be cross about it. I know you did it from the best of motives, but all the same it was fearfully rash. I believe it’s leaving off raining,” she added, as a sudden gleam of sunshine entered the room, “that reminds me, May, where did you borrow that great umbrella? Did Lady Severn lend it you?”