t, for I believe it is sincere. Nevertheless, my dear child,
you will find few enough people to agree with you--precious few."

"I know, Roden. You are one of those whom a few people would like very
much indeed, but whom the general run would rather dislike."

"Perhaps. And now, disclaiming all idea of being ungracious, how about
quitting so profitless a topic as my own interesting self? And indeed
here comes that which will assuredly divert all attention from it, or
any other matter."

Mona subtly and imperceptibly somewhat widened the distance between
them--indeed, in whatever situation or dilemma she had been surprised,
she might have been trusted to get out of it gracefully--just as the
whole brood came running up. Their mother, having pacified the
disturbance, and forthwith taken the whole lot for a walk, whence they
were returning.

"Well, what was all the grief about?" said Mona. "Frank, I suppose,
teasing somebody again."

"It wasn't me, Cousin Mona," said the accused urchin resentfully. "I
had nothing to do with it. Bah! It was Alfie, as usual. He'd let
another slate pencil fall on his toe, I suppose." And the wrongfully
accused one marched off in high dudgeon.

Roden laughed unrestrainedly.

"That fellow's a wag, by Jove!" he said. "You'll have to entrust him
with the care of the humour of the family, Mrs Suffield," as Grace came
up, and was delighted with the answer repeated for her benefit, for
Frank was rather the favoured one in her eyes, probably because he was
the most mischievous and unmanageable. The while Mona was watching with
a jealous eye lest any of the small fry in their restive exuberance
should come near imparting to the invalid chair a sudden and
unpremeditated shake.

"I saw that, Mona," he said, after they had all cleared out. "I have
seen the same kind of watchfulness, though in different ways, before,
since I have been lying here. Believe me, dear, I keenly appreciate
it."

Her eyes lighted up. She seemed about to reply, but thought better of
it and, said nothing. In her heart, however, she was echoing gladsomely
that resolute, passionate murmur which she had uttered in the silent
midnight as she stilled his pain in slumber by the very restfulness of
her presence; echoing it with such a thrill of exultation as to tax all
her powers of self-command, "Darling love--my love--you are mine! I
have won you, and now I hold you!"

CHAPTER TWELVE.

BREATHING OF