ady for a dear young cousin of Lady Anne's, who had
not lived to enjoy it. If Mary had only known, she owed something of
Lady Anne's interest to the fact that her eyes were grey, like Viola's,
her cheek transparent like Viola's.

Apart from the discomfort of the broken arm, as she lay in the soft,
downy little bed, she was ill at ease, wondering how they were getting
on without her at Wistaria Terrace. Her breast had an ache for the baby
who was used to lie warm against it. Her good arm felt strange and
lonely for the familiar little body. She kept putting it out in a panic
during her sleep because she missed the baby.

In the morning Simmons, Lady Anne's maid, came to help her dress. It was
very difficult, Mary found, to do things for one's self with a broken
arm. Her head ached because of the disturbed sleep and the pain of the
broken limb. Simmons had come to her in a somewhat hostile frame of
mind. She did not hold with picking up gutter-children from no one knew
where and setting people as were respectable to wait upon them. But at
heart she was a good-natured woman, and her indignation disappeared
before the unchildish pain and weariness of Mary's face.

"There," she said, "I wouldn't be fretting, if I were you. Lor' bless
you, there's fine treats in store for you. Her ladyship sent only last
night for a roll of grey cashmere. I'm to fit you after your breakfast
and make it up as quick as I can. Then you'll be fit to go out with her
ladyship in the carriage and get your other things."

It was the last day of the ugly linsey. Simmons got through her task
with great quickness. She was a woman of taste, else she had not been
Lady Anne's maid. Lady Anne was more particular about her garments than
most young women. And, having once made up her mind to like Mary,
Simmons took an interest in her task.

"You are so kind, Mrs. Simmons," Mary said gratefully, feeling the
gentleness and dexterity with which the woman tried on her new garments
without once jarring the broken arm.

"I'm kind enough to those who take me the proper way," said Simmons,
greatly pleased with Mary's prefix of Mrs., which was brevet rank, since
Simmons had never married. It would have made a great difference to
Mary's comfort at this time if she had been sufficiently ill-advised to
call Simmons without a prefix, as Lady Anne did.

Dr. Carruthers had called to see Mary the morning after the accident. He
had interviewed his patient in the mornin