“But, Joan!”

“Where’s the difficulty?”

“I don’t see how I could take you down very well.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“But what is your objection?”

“Well—­don’t you see?—­if you went down there as a friend of mine and were caught stealing the scarab, there would be just the trouble father wants to avoid—­about my engagement, you see, and so on.”

It was an aspect of the matter that had escaped Joan.  She frowned thoughtfully.

“I see.  Yes, there is that; but there must be a way.”

“You mustn’t, Joan—­really! don’t think any more about it.”

“Not think any more about it!  My child, do you even faintly realize what five thousand dollars—­or a quarter of five thousand dollars—­means to me?  I would do anything for it—­anything!  And there’s the fun of it.  I don’t suppose you can realize that, either.  I want a change.  I’ve been grubbing away here on nothing a week for years, and it’s time I had a vacation.  There must be a way by which you could get me down—­Why, of course!  Why didn’t I think of it before!  You shall take me on Friday as your lady’s maid!”

“But, Joan, I couldn’t!”

“Why not?”

“I—­I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, well!”

Joan advanced on her where she sat and grasped her firmly by the shoulders.  Her face was inflexible.

“Aline, my pet, it’s no good arguing.  You might just as well argue with a wolf on the trail of a fat Russian peasant.  I need that money.  I need it in my business.  I need it worse than anybody has ever needed anything.  And I’m going to have it!  From now on, until further notice, I am your lady’s maid.  You can give your present one a holiday.”

Aline met her eyes waveringly.  The spirit of the old schooldays, when nothing was impossible where Joan was concerned, had her in its grip.  Moreover, the excitement of the scheme began to attract her.

“But, Joan,” she said, “you know it’s simply ridiculous.  You could never pass as a lady’s maid.  The other servants would find you out.  I expect there are all sorts of things a lady’s maid has got to do and not do.”

“My dear Aline, I know them all.  You can’t stump me on below-stairs etiquette.  I’ve been a lady’s maid!”

“Joan!”

“It’s quite true—­three years ago, when I was more than usually impecunious.  The wolf was glued to the door like a postage stamp; so I answered an advertisement and became a lady’s maid.”

“You seem to have done everything.”

“I have—­pretty nearly.  It’s all right for you idle rich, Aline—­you can sit still and contemplate life; but we poor working girls have got to hustle.”

Aline laughed.

“You know, you always could make me do anything you wanted in the old days, Joan.  I suppose I have got to look on this as quite settled now?”

“Absolutely settled!  Oh, Aline, there’s one thing you must remember:  Don’t call me Joan when I’m down at the castle.  You must call me Valentine.”