have frequent nourishment, and
as Mrs. Crampton had sent Phoebe across with a store of good
things--soup and jelly and grapes--there were no demands on Olivia's
simple larder. A ready-cooked pheasant would be sent for his dinner,
and anything else that he could fancy.

"Mrs. Crampton says that she knows her master would approve, so I
suppose we need not be too scrupulous," observed Marcus; but at that
moment the surgery bell rang.

Dr. Luttrell's services were required at number seventeen, and with an
expressive look at his wife Marcus took up his hat and hastened out.

Olivia had expected Greta quite early, but she did not make her
appearance until late in the afternoon. She had been detained, she
said--nurse had asked her to take her place for a couple of hours. And
then she looked anxiously at Olivia.

"I am afraid Alwyn is ill," she observed; but Olivia assured her that
it was only a temporary break-down. "We have such good news of Mr.
Gaythorne that he cannot fail to be cheered, but of course he is
fretting about the loss of his mother and sister. It was such a shock,
you see, and, as my husband says, we must give him time to pull himself
together. But you do not look very well yourself, Greta; you are
terribly pale."

"Oh, that is nothing," she returned. "I suppose I was too much
excited, for I could not sleep for hours. I seemed to be living
through my old life again. They were such happy days, Mrs. Luttrell;
one's existence was not meagre and colourless then."

"I wish you would tell me a little about it all," observed Olivia as
she ensconced Greta in the most comfortable chair. "You cannot imagine
how it interests me." And then Miss Williams smiled.

"Oh, you are so sympathetic--that is your great charm; but indeed I
love to dwell on that part of my life. You know the Gaythornes lived
at Medlicott Grange. It was a quaint, picturesque, old house, covered
with ivy, and with a lovely garden. There was a lime-walk that was
delicious on hot summer afternoons; I can smell the limes now.

"Mr. Gaythorne, who had been abroad a great many years, had taken a
fancy to the place and half thought of buying it, but he changed his
mind later.

"We lived at the Lodge, a much smaller house, looking over the village
green; it was rather an inconvenient house, full of small rooms all
opening out of each other, and long, rambling passages; but dear mother
and I were very fond of it. We liked the three-co