ped his hands, and asked mother what on earth she meant
by crying, while the tears were rolling down his own dear old nose in
the most barefaced manner all the time. I danced about the house and
kissed everyone I met, and the servants cried and laughed, and the old
family doctor was sent for and came in beaming and rubbing his hands
with delight. He said it was a wonderful improvement, and the best
possible augury of complete recovery, and that now the first step had
been taken we could look forward to continuous improvement.

Oh, how happy we were! I don't think any of us slept much that night;
we just lay awake and thanked God, and gloated over the glad news. All
the next day Vere's face shone with the same wonderful incredulous joy.
Hope had been very nearly dead for the last few months, and the sudden
change from despair to practical certainty was too great to realise. It
seemed as if she did not know how to be thankful enough. She said to me
once--

"I am going to get well, Babs, but I must never forget this experience!
As long as I live I shall keep this couch in my bedroom, and when I have
been selfish and worldly I shall lay down straight on my back as I have
done all these months and stay there for an hour or two, just to make
myself remember how much I have been spared, and how humble I ought to
be. And if you ever see me forgetting and going back to the old
thoughtless ways, you must remind me, Babs; you must speak straight out
and stop me in time. I want to look back on this illness and feel that
it has been the turning-point in my life."

Later on the same day she said suddenly--

"I want Jim! Please send for Jim." And when he came, rushing on the
wings of the express next day, she was so sweet and kind to him that the
poor fellow did not know whether he was standing on his head or his
heels.

It was characteristic of Jim that when recovery seemed certain he should
say no more about his own hopes. He had been anxious enough to offer
his love in the dark days of uncertainty, and all the year long a day
had never passed without bringing Vere some sign of his remembrance--a
letter, or a book, or a magazine, or flowers, or scent, or chocolates.
The second post never once came in without bringing a message of love
and cheer. He came down to see us, too, once a month at least, and
sometimes got very little thanks for his pains, but that made no
difference to his devotion. Now for the first time