y as I could from the Carters' in order not to
miss you," said Bessie to Aunt Mary in her stentorian voice, and she
presented a glowing rose cheek to be kissed.

Magdalen shot a grateful glance at her sister, and the conversation
became general.

After the aunts had departed, Bessie said to Magdalen on their way
upstairs to dress, "I found when I reached the Carters' that they had
gone out with Professor Ridgway to see the Roman camp. Only old Mrs.
Carter was at home, and she was rather chilly, and said they had
expected me to luncheon. They had had a little party to meet the
Professor. I saw that my conduct called for an apology. I made one."

"I am glad of that."

"I see now that it would have been wiser to have gone over for luncheon
as arranged. I also thought how selfish it was of Fay not to help you
with the aunts. And then I perceived that there were not two pins to
choose between us, as I had been just as bad myself, so I hurried back
as quickly as I could."

"I was most grateful to you when I saw you come in. And Aunt Mary was
pleased too. She never shows it much; but she was."

"It is of secondary importance whether she was pleased or not. My object
in returning was twofold: to help you, and also for the sake of my own
character. I begin to see that unless I am careful I shall become as
selfish as father."

Magdalen did not answer.

"The aunts never do things like other people," continued Bessie. "I
found Aunt Aggie standing, eating a bun, just outside the drawing-room
door. She was quite flurried when I came up, and said she wanted to see
my fossils, but would rather look at them another day."

CHAPTER X

La vie est un instrument dont on commence toujours par jouer faux.

Wentworth and Fay did not follow Colonel Bellairs and Magdalen back to
the house. When they reached the end of the avenue they turned back
silently by mutual consent, and retraced their steps down it.

Presently they reached the trunk of the tree where Fay had been sitting
with Magdalen.

Fay sank down upon it once more, white and exhausted. He sat down at a
little distance from her.

"How is Michael?" she said at last, twisting her ungloved hands
together.

"I came to tell you about him; I only got back last night. I knew you
would wish to hear."

"How is he?"

"He has been ill. He has had double pneumonia. It started with
haemorrhage, and some of the blood got into the lungs, and caused
pneumonia. He is