"Sorry!—but it slipped out. Lucy—good-night."
Mrs. Friend hurriedly caught hold of her.
"And you won't do anything hasty—about Lord Donald?"
"Oh, I can't promise anything. One must stand by one's friends. One simply must. But I'll take care Cousin Philip doesn't blame you."
"If I'm no use, you know—I can't stay."
"No use to Cousin Philip, you mean, in policing me?" said Helena, with a good-humoured laugh. "Well, we'll talk about it again to-morrow. Good-night—Lucy!"
The sly gaiety of the voice was most disarming.
"Good-night, Miss Pitstone."
"No, that won't do. It's absurd! I never ask people to call me Helena, unless I like them. I certainly never expected—there, I'll be frank!—that I should want to ask you—the very first night too. But I do want you to. Please, Lucy, call me Helena. Please!"
Mrs. Friend did as she was told.