She laid down her screen and pulled up her dress, to let the warmth get to her ankles. Anna looked at her dainty face lit up by the glow.
"I wish I was like you, Mrs. Fanshaw!"
Christine did not refuse the compliment; she only denied the value of the possession which won it for her.
"Much good it's done me, my dear!" she sighed. "But people who've not got looks never will believe how little good they are. Oh, I didn't mean to be rude, Anna! I believe in you, you know. I can do something with you. Only——" She stopped, frowning a little and looking vaguely unhappy. "Well," she resumed, "if it turns out that I can't take you under my wing, we must get hold of Sibylla. She's always ready to do things for people—and they've got lots of money, anyhow."
Anna's curiosity was turned in the direction of Sibylla.
"What was the truth about Mrs. Imason, Mrs. Fanshaw?"
"I made sure you'd know that too!" smiled Christine. "And if you don't, I suppose I oughtn't to tell you."
"I know she—she had an accident."
"Oh, well, everybody knows. Yes, she had, and they thought it was worse than it was. The country doctor down at Milldean made a mistake—took too serious a view, you know. And—and there was a lot of bother. But the London man said it would be all right, and so it turned out. The baby came all right, and it's a splendid boy."
"It all ended all right, then?"