I shall be nearly starving before to-morrow is
over. I wish now I had said I had a sore throat, and then perhaps they
would have been afraid of influenza, and have isolated me at once. Oh,
dear! Mabel's tennis party is to be this afternoon, and I shall have to
stop here and lose all the fun. Francis Farrington asked me to be his
partner, and he plays so well that I'm sure we should have beaten all
the others!"

She was shedding hot, bitter tears, not so much of regret for the long
months of deception as of chagrin for the pleasure she must needs forgo.
She was sorry, indeed, for the course she had taken, but it was not real
repentance, only a wish to escape disagreeable consequences. Aldred had
much to learn yet before she could set the desire for right above the
love of approbation, or practise truth for its own sake.

When Lady Muriel and Mabel came to see her, about one o'clock, they
found her with red eyes, a flushed face, and a genuine headache.

"You must lie still," said Lady Muriel, after feeling her hot hands.
"You seem quite feverish, and mustn't on any account try to get up and
race about at tennis; it would be the worst thing possible for you. I'm
so grieved about it, dear!"

"It's most disappointing!" echoed Mabel. "I should like to stay and
spend the afternoon with you, only it would be so rude to the other
visitors. Perhaps I can keep running in between the sets."

"No, don't!" protested Aldred. "You're indispensable, and will be needed
out-of-doors all the time. You mustn't bother about me."

At present she much preferred her friend's absence. She was afraid she
might not be able to play her part adequately, and that the loving,
watchful eyes might discover how little she really ailed. Mabel also
would be sure to talk of nothing but her Cousin Marion, in the
circumstances the most unpalatable topic possible.

There was no lunch for Aldred that day; she ate three biscuits, the
utmost limit she felt she dared allow herself, and drank some soda
water. She longed for roast beef and potatoes, but knew that an invalid
who could demand such solid fare would scarcely receive credence.

"I suppose I can hold out until to-morrow evening," she thought, "but
after that I shall be obliged to confess to an appetite."

She spent an extremely dull afternoon, listening wistfully to the sound
of voices wafted from the tennis lawn. There were no books in her room,
and she had not liked to ask for one, lest the req