best I can for her for the present,' said Jem,--'try to
harden her against the girls, and leave her to bear it. Poor dear! it
makes one's heart ache! And to have done it oneself, too! Then, in the
holidays, perhaps, you will help me to judge. You will be her friend,
Mary; there's nothing she needs so much. I thought she would have
found one at school but they are not the right stamp of animal. She
has been too much thrown on Louis; and though he has made a noble thing
of her, that must come to an end, and the sooner the better.'

Certainly, it was a perplexity for a young elder brother; but there
could not but remain some simple wonder in Mary's mind whether the
obvious person, Mrs. Frost, had not better have been left to decide for
her granddaughter.

The building operations gave full occupation to the powers of the two
cousins, and in good time before breakfast, all was successfully
completed,--a hand-rail affixed, and the passage cleared out, till it
looked so creditable, as well as solid, that there was no more to wish
for but that Louis should be able to see their handiwork.

James went away in the better spirits for having been allowed to shake
Louis by the hand and exchange a few words with him. Mary augured that
it would be the better for Clara and for the pupils.

All that further transpired from him was a cheerful letter to Mrs.
Frost, speaking of Clara as perfectly well, and beginning to
accommodate herself to her situation, and from this Mary gathered that
he was better satisfied.

The days brought gradual improvement to the patient, under Mrs. Frost's
tender nursing, and his father's constant assiduity; both of which, as
he revived, seemed to afford him the greatest pleasure, and were
requited with the utmost warmth and caressing sweetness towards his
aunt, and towards his father with ever-fresh gratitude and delight.
Lord Ormersfield was like another man, in the sick-room, whence he
never willingly absented himself for an hour.

One day, however, when he was forced to go to Northwold on business,
Louis put on a fit of coaxing importunity. Nothing would serve him but
some of Jane Beckett's choice dried pears, in the corner of the oaken
cupboard, the key of which was in Aunt Kitty's pocket, and no one must
fetch them for him but Aunt Kitty herself, he was so absurdly earnest
and grave about them, that Jane scolded him, and Mrs. Frost saw
recovery in his arch eyes; understanding all the time tha