the stars shining in the dark wintry
sky. Alwyn had begged her, as a special favour to him, to pay a daily
visit to Galvaston House, so for the next three or four days she found
it impossible to go round to Maybrick Villas.

Mr. Gaythorne took her visits as a matter of course. There was always
something he wanted to discuss with her. Some fresh arrangement for
his daughter-in-law's comfort. One day he consulted her about a
brougham that he intended to buy as a surprise.

"I shall get Dr. Luttrell to choose it," he said; "and there is a man I
know at Medhurst who will pick me up a pair of chestnuts. My son's
wife is a rich woman, and ought to have a pair for her carriage. There
is some good stabling to be got just by, and Dr. Luttrell knows a
capital coachman who has been thrown out of place by his master's
death. In the spring she might have a victoria, but a brougham will be
more serviceable at this season of the year when Alwyn takes her to
theatres and concerts." And though Olivia smiled, she could not but
own that the brougham would be a boon to Greta.

"Then we will see about it at once," he returned, eagerly. "Would you
ask your husband to call to-morrow morning if he can spare the time?"
And as Olivia took her leave she promised to give the message.

To her surprise she found Marcus reading by the fire; he looked up at
her a little gravely as she entered.

"You are rather late, are you not, Livy?" he said, laying down his
paper. "Martha brought me some tea, but I waited to speak to you. I
shall have to go out again directly."

"Let me give you Mr. Gaythorne's message first. He wants you to go
round and speak to him tomorrow morning about a new brougham for Greta.
How delighted she and Alwyn will be. Greta is not strong and does not
care for walking much in the winter, and she catches cold so easily."

"It is just what Alwyn wished for her. Yes, I will try to run across
to-morrow morning, but I have a long day's work before me. Olive,
darling, I have rather bad news for you," and here he put his arm round
her. "Aunt Madge is ill."

Olivia turned very pale. "Marcus, how did you know? Has Deb sent a
message? I hope--oh, I do hope, it is not influenza."

"I fear it is," returned Marcus, reluctantly. "I met Randolph, and he
stopped and told me. He was just going there for the second time. He
wants to send a nurse in, but Deb was so against it that he did not
venture to insist; but I am