"No; merely heard of her. Oh, it's not to be wondered at; he had lots of acquaintances, of course." This was definite enough to indicate that she had told him all she intended to, and both were silent for a while. But presently a new thought occurred to her and she began again:
"Tell me, James, does Harry know anything about Mme. Lefèbre?"
"Not that I know of; not unless he heard of her ... before."
"Well, I think it would be a good plan if you didn't mention her name to him, or talk about her in his presence."
"All right. Why, though—particularly?"
"Never mind about that. At least," she caught herself up, realizing, perhaps, that this was treating him too much en enfant; "at least, I think it would be just as well for him not to know anything about her. It might worry him. Particularly in his present state. There is no reason why he should see the papers, or hear anything."
"I see," said James, quietly, staring out of the window. He saw far too well, poor boy, was Aunt Cecilia's thought.
But the conversation started her off on a new line of thought in regard to Harry. Harry was so different from James; if he once smelled a rat he would go nosing about till he found him, even if he undermined the foundations of his own happiness in so doing. And Harry was the kind that smelled rats.... Inevitably her thoughts wandered around to Lady Fletcher's scheme, and beheld it in a new light. There was a certain amount of common sense in the plan, so viewed; there would certainly be fewer rats in London than anywhere in this country. And after all, what was the danger in his going to England? Miriam would not eat him, neither would Giles; Miriam must really be fond of him if she wanted to take him—Miriam would hardly do anything against her own inclination, she reflected, a little bitterly.
She presented her changed front to her husband that evening, and the upshot of it all was that Harry was to go to England. The whole family adjourned to New York after the funeral, and steamship plans and sailings were in the air. James went with them; it was decided that he was not to return to school till Harry sailed with his aunt.
Harry himself took most kindly to the scheme; seemed, indeed, to prefer it to St. Barnabas. He flaunted his superior fortune in the face of his brother, making comparisons between the British Isles and St. Barnabas, greatly to the detriment of the latter.