oom afforded, to enjoy to the full the
welcome message from home.

Perhaps Dick had divined the double anxiety which was burdening his
wife, perhaps he realised how long she would feel a Sunday without news,
perhaps out of his own loneliness had arisen a need for words--in any
case, that special letter was the longest and, to Bridgie's heart, the
dearest which she had received since her departure from home. He told
her of the children, and of their latest sayings; he told her of himself
and his work; he comforted her, where she needed comfort, cheered her,
where she needed cheer, called her by the sweet love names which she
most loved to hear, and held before her eyes the prospect of a swift
return. And Bridgie reading that letter thanked God for the thousandth
time, because on her--undeserving--had been bestowed the greatest gift
which a woman can receive--the gift of a faithful love!

Ten minutes had passed before she had read and re-read her precious
letter, but when she turned her head it was to find Pixie standing in
the same position as that in which she had seen her last, gazing down
upon a sheet of paper on which a few short lines were written in a
masculine writing. At Bridgie's movement she raised her head, and spoke
in a curiously low, level voice--

"It is from Stanor. He has sailed for home. Honor Ward and a party of
friends were crossing, and he decided at the last moment to come with
them. We shall see him on Thursday next."

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

STANOR COMES BACK.

It was Thursday morning. With the doctor's permission Pat's bed had
been carried back to the minute apartment which was grandiloquently
termed a "dressing-room." A sofa took its place in the dining-room, and
with the aid of a stick he could walk from one refuge to another, and
enjoy what--after the confinement of the past months--appeared quite an
exciting variety of scene.

Bridgie Victor was still a joint occupant of the "best" bedroom, for
since Pat refused to part with Pixie it was plainly the elder sister's
duty to stay on over the important meeting with Stanor Vaughan. The
modern girl scoffs at the idea of chaperonage, but the O'Shaughnessys
were not modern. Bridgie felt the impulse to protect, and Pixie's
piteous "_Stay_ with me, Bridgie!" marked the one moment of weakness
which she had shown. So Bridgie remained in London, comforted by the
knowledge that her husband was well and her children in good hands, and