to recover health and strength in this beautiful
home. Then little Madge drew the curtain across the window to exclude
the light from his eyes, and left the room as quietly as she had entered
it.

She found Lilian waiting for her at the foot of the stairs; and before
long the two children had become quite confidential, and were rapidly
making friends.

In the evening Raymond was allowed to come down-stairs, and to lie on
the sofa in the pretty drawing-room.

Lilian came to his side with a handful of bright-coloured geraniums and
white roses. "Papa says you like pretty things; and he told me I might
bring you these."

Raymond took them with a bright smile. They were not as beautiful as the
child who gave them, glowing as the colours were.

"Are you better?" said Lilian.

"Yes, much better, thank you; I shall soon be quite well."

"Do you like being here?"

"Very much; and so does Madge," he answered, laying his hand on hers as
she knelt beside him.

"We are going to have great fun when you are well again; and I am to
have shorter lessons; and Madge is going to do lessons with me; and you
will do lessons with papa. He says so."

Raymond lay very still, sometimes looking out at the sea, sometimes at
the "airy fairy Lilian," by his side, sometimes at the beautiful
pictures around the room. "I wonder who painted that one!" he said,
pointing to a likeness of a lovely lady and child.

[Illustration: RAYMOND AND LILIAN.]

"It is mamma and me," said Lilian, a little sadly; and then pointing to
one that hung near it, she said, "I like that picture better than any."

"Whose is it?"

"It is done by the great artist, Herbert Smith," she answered, laughing.

Raymond looked at it with eager delight; and at this moment Lilian's
father entered the room.

"Chatterbox, I hope you are not tiring Raymond;" and he looked kindly
and inquiringly at the invalid.

"Not the least, sir; I was thinking that you are fortunate to possess so
many of the paintings of Herbert Smith. How beautiful they are!" and the
young artist's eye kindled with enthusiasm.

His new friend smiled.

"I am very fond of painting, Raymond."

"You must be, sir, from the way you have talked to me about it, and from
your having such beautiful pictures. Do you paint yourself?"

"Why, Raymond," said Lilian, "don't you know--;" but a warning look from
her father stopped her saying anything more. She only looked over at
Madge, with her large blue eyes