emptorily, "but you are to remember that
you are no bother to us whatever, that we are only too pleased to have
you, and the more you give us to do, the better we shall be pleased."
Then, catching sight of her troubled face as he laid her on the sofa in
the dining-room, "Some day we may want your help, and I should not
hesitate to ask you for it, Irene, because I should know that it would be
a joy to you to give it. Will you believe the same of us, my child?"

Irene looked up at him gratefully. "Oh, yes, yes," she cried, but her
glance travelled swiftly from him to Audrey, wanting her assurance too.

"Of course we are very glad to have you," Audrey answered, meeting the
eager eyes; but her voice lacked that ring of genuineness which means more
than any other; the ring which sounded so clearly in her father's.
She knew it, and was sorry; but she could not help it. There was that to
be said for Audrey--she was honest. She could not feign a pleasure she
did not feel; and she had yet to learn to feel the pleasure which comes
with trying to make others happy.

"You couldn't help it," she added lamely; "don't worry about it, Irene,"
but that seemed only to make matters worse. Irene's face showed that, and
her own heart told her so.

Oh, how she longed to be one of the happy-go-lucky, don't-care people,
like Faith, who felt nothing but gladness at welcoming people, and were
quite unconcerned as to what they were welcoming them to! It was really
her care for her visitor's comfort which lay at the bottom of her
seemingly cold welcome, her over-anxiety that everything should be as nice
as she was accustomed to.

"No, I couldn't help it. But--I think I ought to go home presently.
I can manage to, I can really, and mother would be so glad."

Tears came into her eyes. She was feeling so shaken and faint, and in
such pain all over, she seemed to lose grip on herself. A sudden longing
to be petted and made much of, swept over her. Fortunately at that moment
Faith came rushing in.

"What has happened?" she cried anxiously. "I have only just heard that
there has been an accident.--Oh, Irene! you poor darling, you do look bad.
Here, lean back, and let me arrange the cushions more comfortably.
Oh, your poor face, how it must hurt you. Wouldn't it be more comfortable
if I bathed it with warm water?"

"We have got to get the spare room ready as quickly as possible," said
Audrey, briskly, rousing herself to action. "She