Miss Devonshire's presence, alien as it was to her present mood, acted with a stimulating effect on Gertrude. To Conny she knew herself to be a very tower of strength; and such knowledge is apt to make us strong, at least for the time being.
"Oh, there's nothing new about me!" answered Conny, wrinkling her handsome, discontented face. "Gerty, why won't you come to us, you and Lucy, and let the others go to India?"
Gertrude laughed at this summary disposal of the family.
"Of course I knew you wouldn't come," said Conny, in an injured voice; "but, seriously, Gerty, what are you going to do?"
In a few words Gertrude sketched the plan which she had propounded to her sisters that morning.
"I don't believe it is possible," said Miss Devonshire, with great promptness; "but it sounds very nice," she added with a sigh, and thought, perhaps, of her own prosperous boredom.
The bell rang for tea, and Gertrude began brushing her hair. Constance endeavoured to seize the brush from her hands.
"You are not coming down, my dear, indeed you are not! You are going to lie down, while I go and fetch your tea."
"I had much rather not, Conny. I am quite well."