Queen's Terrace--large, lofty rooms, with
the sun shining on them all day, each one containing two large windows,
from which could be seen a glorious vista of trees and flowers.

Without saying one word to Clare, they were prepared for her. Books,
music, pictures, statues, flowers, were all arranged in order;
everything bright and beautiful was brought there. A small part of the
room was partitioned off and made into a conservatory, where she could
see the flowers bloom and hear the birds sing all the day long.

I have seen many lovely places since then, but none that looked to me so
bright and beautiful as my sister's rooms. All that money could do to
alleviate her sufferings was done. I ordered the easiest reclining
chair, on which she could be gently moved from room to room, resolving
in my own mind, no matter what went on in other parts of the house, that
in her rooms there should be always sunshine and happiness.

Her joy when she was carried into them was most pretty and pathetic to
see. Then, when she was fairly installed, I wrote to London for the
celebrated Dr. Finlaison, and I placed her under his care. He gave me
some little hope.

In the course of time, he said, with the best of attention, the most
tender care and cheerful society, she would, he believed, recover so as
to be once more able to take her place in the world; and the hour in
which I heard that was, I do not hesitate to say, one of the very
happiest of my life.

This part of my story has been, perhaps, commonplace. There was coming
for me a different phase. If my reader thinks it too romantic, I can
only say--it is true.

CHAPTER V.

It was some little time before I asked Clare how she liked Coralie, then
the answer was most diplomatic.

"I am so very sorry for her, Edgar, and so pleased that she has a home
with us."

She never said more than that, or less. Knowing her amiable character, I
came to the conclusion that she did not like her, but was too
good-natured and kind-hearted to say so.

Mademoiselle, as she was called in the household, was very kind to my
sister. She engaged a maid, whose only business was to wait upon her;
and more than that, she spent some hours, at least, every day in her
room. She attended to her flowers, fed her birds, selected her books,
played and sang to her, read to her, talked to her in her bright, lively
way, superintended her dress, so that I always saw my darling
exquisitely attired; and yet