g, or in any way
betrayed the secret she had learnt. Perhaps, after all, she was proud
that her son should be so truly loved, and by such a woman.

Leaning over Olive, she soothed her with great tenderness. "You are
indeed too weak to hear anything of the world without. I ought to have
taken better care of you, my dear child. Nay, never mind because you
gave way a little," she said seeing the burning blushes that rose
one after the other in Olive's face. "It was quite natural. The most
trifling thing must agitate one who has been so very, very ill. Come,
will you read your letter, or shall I put it by till you are stronger?"

"No, no, I should like to read it. He is very good to write to me,--very
good indeed. I felt his kindness the more from being ill; that is why it
made me weep," said Olive, faintly.

"Certainly, my dear; but I will leave you now, for I have not yet read
mine. I am sure Harold would be pleased to know how glad _we both_ are
to hear from him," said Mrs. Gwynne, with a light but kindly emphasis.
And then Olive was left alone.

Oh that Harold had seen her as she sat! Oh that _he_ had heard her
broken words of thankful joy, when she read of his welfare! Then he
might at last have felt what blessedness it was to be so loved; to
reign like a throned king in a pure woman's heart, where no man had ever
reigned before, and none ever would, until that heart was dust.

Harold wrote much as he had always done, perhaps a little more
reservedly, and with a greater degree of measured kindliness. He took
care to answer every portion of Olive's letter, but wrote little about
himself, or his own feelings. He had not been able to find out the
Vanbrughs, he said, though he would try every possible means of so
doing before he left Rome for Paris. Miss Rothesay must always use his
services in everything, when needed, he said, nor forget how much he was
"her sincere and faithful friend."

"He is that, and will be always! I am content, quite content;" and she
gazed down, calmly smiling at the letter on her knee.

This news from Rome seemed to have given her new life. Hour by hour she
grew rapidly better, and the peace in her own heart made it the more to
yearn over her unhappy sister, who, if sinning, had been sinned against,
and who, if she erred much, must bitterly suffer too.

"Tell Christal I long to see her," she said. "To-morrow I shall be quite
strong, I think, and then I will go to her room myself, and neve