“Oh, to the Channel Islands, or Brittany, or Normandy. Have you ever done Brittany? Kitty could draw, and would be very happy.”
“It has been a sort of dream between us,” Mrs Lascelles admitted; “and to tell you the truth, my husband has to go down to Yorkshire next week. Still—for me to go away!”
She protested a little in fact, but when Mrs Marchmont left her she was well on the way to yielding. Her visitor departed in high spirits, and her next point was to see Bell.
“Bell,” she said, confidentially, “I’ve something to tell you. Mr Everitt is going abroad.”
“I know,” remarked Bell, calmly. “I heard that yesterday.”
Now, this somewhat astonished Mary Marchmont. She began to think that Bell’s means of information were remarkably efficient, and to wonder what they were. Meanwhile she begged her to say nothing about it to the Lascelles’.
“Mrs Lascelles talks of taking Kitty to Brittany, and if by any happy chance they were to meet, everything might come right. But, you know, if a hint reached them—”
“I know,” repeated Bell. “Well, but you will not set him on their track?”
“He would not go if I did. I shall not tell him that they are even leaving England. Everything must be quite accidental and unpremeditated. Indeed, Bell, I have done nothing beyond suggesting that Kitty wanted change of air, and that Brittany was a nice near place.”
“Oh!” said the girl, with a laugh. However, in spite of her mockery she was very ready to promise, and when Jack arrived later in the day, he was admitted into the new conspiracy, which he was to aid by keeping Everitt to the starting-point.