about him, watching with the keenest interest the pretty,
shy approaches of the spring from his window; he read as much as he was
allowed, and helped Rough with his lessons in the evening, and had a
bright smile for everybody at all times.

'I almost feel as if he were too good to live,' said Mrs. Fairchild one
evening to Celestina and her father, when she had returned from a visit
to the rectory. But this time it was Mr. Fairchild's turn to speak
cheerily, for he too had been spending an hour or two with the invalid
that day.

'I saw a decided improvement to-day,' he said. 'I do think Mr. Vane's
patience is wonderful, but I have a strong feeling that he is really
beginning to gain ground.'

Celestina's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and so did her mother's. The
two families had grown very much attached to each other in these few
weeks.

'_Won't_ they all be happy when he gets well?' said the little girl.
'And oh, mother, isn't dear little Biddy different from what she was?
She is so gentle and thoughtful, and she's hardly _never_ cross. She
does so many little things to help.'

Mrs. Fairchild smiled. In her heart she thought that Celestina had
certainly had a hand in this pleasant change, but she would not say so.
Children got less praised '_then_-a-days,' as a little friend of mine
calls long ago, for their parents were exceedingly afraid of spoiling
them, and the thought of taking any credit to herself had never entered
the child's mind.

'I do hope,' she went on, 'that Biddy's papa will be nearly quite well
by her birthday. It'll come in a month, you know, mother, and the
doll-house is almost quite ready. Mrs. Vane has begun working at it
again the last few days, and Rosalys and I and Miss Neale have all been
helping. It _will_ be so lovely, mother,' and Celestina's face lighted
up with pleasure quite as great as if it was all for herself.

Truly, selfish people have _no_ idea what happiness they miss!

CHAPTER XII

ANOTHER BIRTHDAY

'Rare as is true love, true friendship is still rarer.'
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.

Bridget's birthday came in May--the middle of May. From the time I have
told you about in the last chapter Mr. Vane went on getting slowly
better; at least he got no worse. But it did seem very slow. At last
there came a day on which the doctor gave him leave to go downstairs.

'I want to see what he can do,' the doctor explained. 'At this rat