d shameless--a Man once more with Men!
Oh, darling! let me but see thy old happy smile again! The happy
smiles of the young are the sunshine of the old. Be patient--be firm;
Providence is so very kind, Sophy."

CHAPTER XI.

WAIFE EXACTS FROM GEORGE MORLEY THE FULFILMENT OF ONE OF THOSE
PROMISES WHICH MEAN NOTHING OR EVERYTHING.

The next day George Morley visited Waife's room earlier than usual.
Waife had sent for him. Sophy was seated by her grandfather--his hand in
hers. She had been exerting herself to the utmost to talk cheerfully--to
shake from her aspect every cloud of sorrow. But still THAT CHANGE was
there--more marked than even on the previous day. A few hours of intense
struggle, a single night wholly without sleep, will tell on the face
of early youth. Not till we, hard veterans, have gone through such
struggles as life permits not to the slight responsibilities of new
recruits--not till sleepless nights have grown to us familiar will
Thought seem to take, as it were, strength, not exhaustion, from
unrelaxing exercise--nourish the brain, sustain the form by its own
untiring, fleshless, spiritual immortality; not till many a winter has
stripped the leaves; not till deep, and far out of sight, spread the
roots that support the stem--will the beat of the east wind leave no
sign on the rind.

George has not, indeed, so noticed, the day before, the kind of
withering blight that has passed over the girl's countenance; but he did
now--when she met his eye more steadfastly, and had resumed something of
the open genial infantine grace of manner which constituted her peculiar
charm, and which it was difficult to associate with deeper griefs than
those of childhood.

"You must scold my grandfather," she said. "He chooses to fancy that
he is not well enough yet to leave; and I am sure that he is, and will
recover more quickly at home than here."

"Pooh!" said Waife; "you young things suppose we old folks can be as
brisk as yourselves; but if I am to be scolded, leave Mr. George unawed
by your presence, and go out, my dear, while the sun lasts: I know by
the ways of that blackbird that the day will be overcast by noon."

As soon as they were alone, George said abruptly: "Your Sophy is looking
very ill, and if you are well enough to leave, it might be better
for her to move from this gloomy house. Movement itself is a great
restorative," added George, with emphasis.

"You see, then, that she looks ill