nature,
before Miss Cameron left London, and they had never met again till he
saw her along with you decorating the hall down there."

"And they've made it up!" exclaimed Minnie, clapping her hands in her
delight.

"Yes, it is settled--the girl's only nineteen, and in my opinion too
young. But her father doesn't seem to think so."

"O, that's what he was here for then," remarked Minnie, "I met him as I
was going up to Mabel's."

"Yes," replied her father, smiling. "He seems to have fully made up his
mind on one point."

"What point?"

"That there is nothing and nobody worth considering in comparison with
his daughter, and in that conviction his wife and he seem to be
completely at one."

Minnie laughed.

"I know somebody who is pretty nearly as decided in his opinions on a
similar subject," she hinted.

"Come, now, not quite," protested he.

"Well, he's a great deal older than Mr. Cameron, and consequently ought
to have a great deal more sense."

"And his daughter snubs him too much--I wonder if Miss Mona has as sharp
a tongue?"

"I would advise you not to rouse it," was Minnie's reply, as she flitted
away.

Next day the mid-summer holidays commenced, much to Minnie's joy, for
now she could sit by her friend many hours during the day, cheering her
in her intervals of consciousness, and watching and soothing her at
other times--thereby not only greatly aiding her slow recovery, but also
rendering her aunt inestimable service in her present harassing
position.

Mabel's great danger did not lie so much in the ruptured blood-vessel,
as in a sharp attack of brain fever, which had followed upon her late
excitement, and the slackening of the strain she had borne so long.

She was yet very far from being out of danger, but there was scarcely so
much need for apprehension, and even such a slight crumb of comfort was
eagerly caught at.

Minnie was sitting beside Mabel's bed on the third day of the holidays,
when she heard a step outside the door. The handle was turned
noiselessly, and Mona came in on tip-toes, fearful of creating the least
sound.

"Miss Chartres didn't tell me you were here," she said, her voice
trembling. "How is she?"

"I think the fever isn't quite so bad--she hasn't been wandering so much
this afternoon."

Mabel had lain almost motionless all this time, but now her pale lips
began to move, although for some moments no sound issued from them. Then
she began to speak in a voice so t