"She is quite
one of the family. We all call her Ella now; she insisted on it. I
have taken a villa a few miles away. Ella prefers the country. We
often drive into the city. It's a wonder to me that we never met
before."

"Yes; it is odd."

"She came in with us this morning with a watch, which she left at
Penafrio's to be mended. It will be done this evening. She could not
wait for it, so I staid, so as to take it out to her tonight. I
strolled about the town, and finally wandered here, which I think the
prettiest place in Florence. I'd been walking through the gardens for
an hour before you saw me."

"How has she been of late?"

"Very well indeed--better, in fact, than she has ever been since I
first saw her. She was not very well at Naples. The journey here did
her much good, and the affair of the Pontine Marshes roused her up
instead of agitating her. She behaved like a trump--she was as cool
as a clock; but it was a coolness that arose from an excitement which
was absolutely red-hot, Sir. She seemed strung up to a pitch ten
notes higher than usual, and once or twice as I caught her eyes they
seemed to me to have a deep fire in them that was stunning! I never,
in all my born days, saw the equal of that little thing," exclaimed
Obed, tenderly.

"It's having an occupation," he continued, "as I believe, that's done
her this good. She was afraid she would be a dependent, and the fear
arose out of a noble feeling. Now she finds her position an honorable
one. It gives her a fine feeling of pride. The poor little thing
seems to have been brought up to do nothing at all; but now the
discovery that she can do something actually intoxicates her. And the
beauty of it is, she does it well. Yes, Sir. My children have been
pushed along at a tre-mendous pace, and they love Ella better than me
or sister ten times. But you'll see for yourself, for you've got to
come right straight out with me, my boy. You, Windham, are the one
that Ella would rather see than any other. You're the man that saved
her from death, and gave her to me."

At this Lord Chetwynde's stout heart, that had never quailed in the
face of death, throbbed feverishly in his intense joy, and his whole
frame thrilled at the thought that arose in his mind. Going to her
was easy enough, through Obed's warm friendship. And he was going to
her! This was the only thought of which he was conscious.

The carriage was waiting in front of the watchmaker's shop, and the