ouldn't consent to any clouding of the darling child's bright spirit by
her private worries. Trouble, heaven knows, is bound to overtake each one
of us more than soon enough! She--Henrietta--could endure her allotted
portion of universal tribulation best in the absence of youthful
witnesses.

But let Marshall carry Damaris news daily--twice daily, if needs be. Let
him read with her, sing to her; so that she, charming child, should miss
her poor Henrietta, and their happy meetings at the little pavilion, the
less. Especially let him seek the young girl, and strive to entertain
her, when Sir Charles and Colonel Carteret were engaged on their good
Samaritan visits to General Frayling.

"This break in our cherished intercourse," Henrietta wrote, in one of
those many Wace-borne bulletins, "grieves me more than I can express.
Permit Marshall to do all in his power to make up for this hospital
incarceration of mine. Poor dear fellow, it is such a boon to him. I
really crave to procure him any pleasure I can--above all the pleasure of
being with you, which he values so very highly. All his best qualities
show in this time of trial. He is only too faithful and wears himself to
positive fiddle-strings in my service and that of the General. I send him
to you, darling child, for a little change and recreation--relaxation
from the strain of my husband's illness. Marshall is so sympathetic and
feels for others so deeply. His is indeed a rare nature; but one which
does not, alas! always quite do itself justice. I attribute this to an
unfortunate upbringing rather than to any real fault in himself. So be
good to him, Damaris. In being good to him--as I have said all along--you
are being good to your fondly loving and, just now, sorely tried
Henrietta Frayling."

All which sounded a note designed to find an echo in Damaris' generous
heart. Which it did--this the more readily because, still penitent for
her recent trifle of wild-oats sowing, our beloved maiden was
particularly emulous of good works, the missionary spirit all agog in
her. She was out to comfort, to sympathize and to sustain. Hence she
doubly welcomed that high-coloured hybrid, Wace--actor, cleric, vocalist
in one. Guilelessly she indulged and mothered him, overlooking his
egoism, his touchiness and peevishness, his occasional defects of
breeding and of taste. She permitted him, moreover, to talk without
restraint upon his favourite subject--that of himself. To retail th