The days of her energy were over. She was a visitor, not a chaperon, and a discredited visitor at that. She stood with clasped hands while the girl worked herself into the necessary rage.

“He must — that man must have such a setting down that he won't forget. And who's to give it him? I can't tell mother now — owing to you. Nor Cecil, Charlotte, owing to you. I am caught up every way. I think I shall go mad. I have no one to help me. That's why I've sent for you. What's wanted is a man with a whip.”

Miss Bartlett agreed: one wanted a man with a whip.

“Yes — but it's no good agreeing. What's to be DONE. We women go maundering on. What DOES a girl do when she comes across a