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that was it. And what else about him? He was married—that would make it all the easier for her to go and stay with him. Had he any children? She could not remember having heard of any, but there was no doubt in her mind that he would be glad to have his unknown niece to stay. She recalled a rather lonely ring in one or two sentences which Uncle Roger had read out: “Old times . . . cut adrift . . . different ties and interests”—things like that. He would certainly be glad to see her. She composed suitable letters as she lay, wide awake now—friendly ones to Uncle Markham, diplomatic to Aunt Sophia, a hint of pathos for Uncle Roger.

“What a scheming sort of person I am becoming,” she thought. “I hope I’m not really.”

Then another thought alighted. “What about money? It would be expensive to go to California, and I should have to break into that cheque, and I don’t want to spend it—oh, I don’t! . . . There’s Miss Sidmouth too. She paid my passage, and of course I have no right to arrange not to return with her . . . unless I pay her back half. I could do that, but———” However, since it had become possible to stay in America, her determination to remain away from England had full play. She could not go. And Tony had been so distressed about turning her out, and so obstinate about going back himself—it was, she reluctantly supposed, impossible for her to attempt to pay him back any of the sums that had been spent on her all these years. Well! Since it was a question of returning ignominiously with Miss Sidmouth or using part of the despised cheque, there was no doubt which would be the most difficult. And it would be nice to be with relations again, provided they were glad to have her, and somehow she knew Uncle Markham would be.

She wrote to him next day, and to her guardians as well. Also she broached the matter to Miss Sidmouth.