Mrs. Colebrook looked over her glasses at the wondering Evie.
"Mother! How perfectly splendid!"
But Mrs. Colebrook was not so enthusiastic. Change of any kind was anathema. She had acted as housekeeper in her younger days, so that the work had no terrors for her, but—abroad!
Foreign countries meant peril. Foreigners to her were sinister men who carried knives, and were possessed of homicidal tendencies. They spoke a language expressly designed to conceal their evil intentions, and they found their recreation in plotting in underground chambers. There was a cinema at the end of Walter Street.
"There is something written on the other side," said Evie suddenly.
Mrs. Colebrook turned the sheet.
"The invitation extends to your younger daughter, if she would care to accompany you."
"Well!" said Evie, and flew up the stairs to Christina's room.
"Christina! What do you think! Mother has had a letter from a house agent offering—"
"Don't tell me!" Christina interrupted, "let me guess! They've offered her a beautiful house in the country rent free—no? Then they've offered—let me think—a house in a nice warm climate where I can bask in the sunshine and watch the butterflies flirting with the roses!"