"Only at the times and places of which you know."
"Where did you give Mr. Elgar the right to address you in this manner?"
"Only yesterday. I think you mustn't ask me more than that, aunt."
"I'm afraid your companions were rather lacking in discretion," said the other, in a tone of annoyance.
"No; not in the sense you attach to the words. But, aunt, you are speaking as if I were a little girl, to be carefully watched at every step."
Mrs. Lessingham mused, looking absently at the letter. She paid no heed to her niece's last words, but at length said with decision:
"Cecily, this meeting cannot take place."
The girl replied with a look of uttermost astonishment.
"It is impossible, dear. Mr. Elgar should not have written to you like this. He should have addressed himself to other people."
"Other people? But you don't understand, aunt. I cannot explain to you. I expected this letter; and we must see each other."