steps towards Mrs. Trevarthen's
room, at the far end of the gallery; but on the way her eyes fell on a
group of daffodils in bloom below, in the quadrangle. Two flights of
stairs led up from the quadrangle, one at either end of the gallery; and
stepping back to the head of that one which mounted not far from Aunt
Butson's door, she descended and plucked a handful of the flowers.
Returning to the gallery by the other stairway, she was more than a little
surprised to see Mrs. Trevarthen's door, at the head of it, almost wide
open. For Mrs. Trevarthen, worn-out and weary, had left her only an hour
ago under a solemn promise to go straight to bed, and Hester had been
minded to arrange these flowers for her while she slept.

"Mrs. Trevarthen!" she called indignantly from the stair-head.
"Mrs. Trevarthen! What did you promise me?"

A tall figure, dark against the farther window, rose from its stooping
posture over the bed where Mrs. Trevarthen lay, turned, and confronted her
in the doorway with a glad and wondering stare.

"Miss Marvin!"

"Tom! oh, Tom!" cried his mother's voice within. "To think I haven't told
you! But you give me no time!"

A minute later, as Hester walked away along the gallery, she heard his
step following.

"But why wouldn't you come in?" he demanded, and went on before she could
answer, "To think of your being Matron here! But of course mother had no
time to reach me with a letter."

"She gave me yours to read," said Hester mischievously; whereat Tom
flushed and looked away and laughed. "Tell me," she went on. "What did
she answer?"

"She? Who?"

"Why, Harriet--wasn't that her name?"

"There's no such person."

"What? Do you mean to say it was all a trick, and there's no Harriet
Sands in existence?"

"You're wrong now. There _is_ a Harriet Sands, and she belongs to Runcorn
too; only she's a ship."

"A ship! And the letter you made me write--it almost made me cry, too--was
_that_ meant only for a ship?"

"No, it was not--but you're laughing at me." He turned almost savagely,
and catching sight of something in her eyes, stood still. "If you only
knew---_do_ you know?"

"I wish I did--I think I do."

He caught at her hands and clasped them over the daffodils.

"If ever I'm a widow," said a panting voice a few paces away, "if ever I'm
a widow (which the Lord forbid!), I'll end my days on a ground floor 'pon
the flat. Companion-ladders is bad enough when you've a man to