thanks and inquiries for all.

'Quite well,' said Ethel. 'But papa has been most unluckily sent for
to Whitford, and can't get home till the last train.'

'It may be as well,' said Tom: 'we must have perfect quiet till after
the night's rest.'

'May I see one else to-night?' she wistfully asked.

'Let us see how you are when you have had some coffee and are rested.'

'Very well,' she said, with a gentle submission, that was as new a
sight as Tom's tenderness; 'but indeed I am not tired; and it is so
pretty and pleasant. Is this really Dr. Spencer's old house? Can
there be such a charming room in it?'

'I did not think so,' said Tom, looking in amazement at the effect
produced by the bright modern grate with its cheerful fire, the warm
delicate tints of the furniture, the appliances for comfort and
ornament already giving a home look.

'I know this is in the main your doing, Ethel; but who was the hand?'

'All of us were hands,' said Ethel; 'but Flora was the moving spring.
She went to London for a week about it.'

'Mrs. Rivers! Oh, how good!' said Averil, flushing with surprise; then
raising herself, as her coffee was brought in a dainty little service,
she exclaimed, 'And oh, if it were possible, I should say that was my
dear old piano!'

'Yes,' said Ethel, 'we thought you would like it; and Hector
Ernescliffe gave Mrs. Wright a new one for it.'

This was almost too much. Averil's lip trembled, but she looked up
into her husband's face, and made an answer, which would have been odd
had she not been speaking to his thought.

'Never mind! It is only happiness and the kindness.' And she drank the
coffee with an effort, and smiled at him again, as she asked, 'Where is
Ella?'

'At our house,' said Ethel; 'we mean her to be there for the present.'

Knowing with whom Ella must be, and fearing to show discontent with the
mandate of patience, Averil again began to admire. 'What a beautiful
chair! Look, Tom! is it not exquisite? Whose work is it?'

'Gertrude's.'

'That is the most fabulous thing of all,' said Tom, walking round it.
'Daisy! Her present, not her work?'

'Her work, every stitch. It has been a race with time.' The
gratification of Averil's flush and smile was laid up by Ethel for
Gertrude's reward; but it was plain that Tom wanted complete rest for
his wife, and Ethel only waited to install her in the adjoining
bed-room, which was as delightfully fitted up as the first apartment.
Ave