flat, and on the fourth day found a stormy, welcome awaiting him.

"Ah, Glynn, is that you?" drawled Pat coldly. "Hope you haven't
inconvenienced yourself, don't you know. After so many _duty_ visits
you are evidently thankful to be rid of me. _Pray_ don't put yourself
out any more on my account."

Stephen shook hands with Pixie and seated himself beside the bed with
undaunted composure.

"Rubbish, old fellow! And you know it. If you have enjoyed my visits,
so have I. But of course now that Miss O'Shaughnessy--"

"If it's myself that's the obstacle I can stay in my room, but if you've
any pity on me, _come_!" interrupted Pixie. "My life's not worth living
towards the end of the afternoon when Pat is watching the clock, and
fidgeting for the ring of the bell. I'm only his sister, you see, and
he wants a _man_! I'll stay out of the room if you'd rather; though I'm
not saying," she concluded demurely, "that I wouldn't be glad of a
change of society myself!"

"It's horribly dull for the poor girl! She doesn't like to leave me,
and I don't like her going about alone. You might take her about a bit,
Glynn, if you weren't so neglectful and unfriendly! To-morrow's Sunday,
and she's dying to go to the Abbey..."

"May I have the pleasure, Miss O'Shaughnessy?" cried Stephen promptly,
and Pixie wrinkled her nose and said--

"You couldn't say anything else but yes, but I'll not spite myself just
for the sake of seeming proud. Come and take me, and come back to
lunch. You'll get a good one. I've made some changes in this
establishment."

"She telegraphed to the Hilliards' housekeeper, and she sent off a
kitchen-maid--a broth of a girl who romps through the work. And cooks--
You wait and see! I lie and dream of the next meal!" Pat chuckled,
with restored equanimity. "But if I _am_ living in the lap of luxury
_I'm_ not going to be chucked by you, old fellow," he added. "The more
one has the more one wants. I've grown to count on your afternoon
visit, and it upsets me to go without. My temperature has gone up every
night from sheer aggravation. Isn't that true now, Pixie?"

"More blame to, you!" said Pixie. But her eyes met Stephen's with an
anxiety which was not in keeping with her tone, and, in truth, after
four days' absence the face on the pillow appeared to the onlooker,
woefully drawn and white, Stephen registered a vow that Pat's
temperature should not rise again through any neglect of his own.