"Did you notice the name of the place Joyce's friend lived at? I have the address of those we met at Mentone; it was Ferns—something—crag, probably."
"Was it Fernsclough?" said Augusta, eagerly.
"I really believe it was."
"Then the lady is the same. Her place is Fernsclough, Salop."
"Well, what of that? Her giving Joyce a character to go out as children's maid puts away the suggestion of intimacy at once. She might do that, and never speak to or communicate again with one who was disgracing herself by taking a sort of servant's place."
"Joyce said that Mrs. Caruth wanted her to go to Fernsclough for an indefinite time."
"Perhaps that was an invention, in order to raise herself in our eyes, my dear child. I have seen more of life and character than you have, Augusta."
"I can hardly think that," replied the girl; "I could not imagine Joyce saying an untrue word. She is not that sort of girl. And, mamma, she is my cousin and a lady, though she is not rich. I cannot help feeling sorry for her. If these friends of hers should turn out to be the Caruths we met, and at some future time we should see them again, what will they think of us for letting Joyce go?"
"Think, you foolish girl! What can they think? Just that as she was too proud to go to Fernsclough, she was too headstrong to be guided by us, and went her own wilful way. You need not trouble your head about that."
But Augusta was not quite happy, in spite of her mother's assurances; and Adelaide was still less so.