Aunt Madge's eyes had a dreamy look in them; the beautiful voice
vibrated in Olive's ear like music; but as she stooped to kiss her,
somewhat awed by her unusual solemnity, the old kind smile returned to
her lips.

"Good-bye, Livy darling, my love, and congratulations to Marcus."

Olivia was putting a good face on things, but Marcus, oppressed with
the heavy responsibility of three serious cases, hardly knew how hard
she worked from morning to night. Dot, feverish and fretful, was
always wanting to be in her mother's arms. Martha, with all her
willingness, was too young and inexperienced to be a very efficient
help; so, although Olivia always wore a bright expression when Marcus
came in for his meals, and chatted to him in her old cheerful way, she
was often too weary to sleep.

It was a relief, therefore, when Alwyn was able to leave his room and
lie on the couch downstairs. Greta's afternoon visits were then a real
boon; she could leave them together while she went out and did her
business.

Olivia's healthy, robust constitution always needed fresh air and
regular exercise. Confinement to the house tried her, and the small
rooms and low ceilings at No. 1, Galvaston Terrace, were certainly
rather cramping. Half an hour's brisk walk always refreshed her and
acted like a tonic. She would look in at Mayfield Villas for ten
minutes and give her report of the invalids, and then come back to tea
looking so fresh and invigorated that Alwyn once told her that she was
as good as a whiff of moorland air.

Alwyn was slow in recovering from that terrible shock. His nerves had
suffered severely, and at times his restlessness and depression were
sad to see.

"If he could only be reconciled to his father," Greta would sigh; "but
the thought of another interview seems to terrify him. He is so
painfully morbid," she went on, "and distrusts himself. He is afraid
of saying and doing the wrong thing; somehow he seems to have lost all
faith in his father's love."

"'I long for his forgiveness. I know that I have been a bad son,' he
said, yesterday. 'But he will never believe in my penitence.' Oh, it
is dreadful the way he talks and works himself up."

"Marcus says it is a good deal owing to nervous exhaustion," returned
Olivia; "but he is very sorry for him. Mr. Gaythorne has begged more
than once to see him; he is evidently craving for a sight of him, but
Marcus dare not bring them together yet. Mr. Gaythorne i