'clock,
Lettice and I will finish your work between us, and we will all come and
have tea in the drawing-room, and help you out for the rest of the
afternoon!"

"Yes, Norah, we will; and I'll give you that pink ribbon for your hair.
Do, Norah! there's a good girl. You won't mind a bit after the first
moment."

"It's all very well," grumbled Norah; but she was plainly softening, and
after a moment's hesitation, she pushed back her chair and said slowly,
"All right, I'll go; but mind you are punctual with tea, for I don't
bargain to stay a moment after four o'clock." She brushed the ends of
cotton from her dress, walked across to the door, and disappeared
through the doorway with a pantomimic gesture of distaste. At the other
side she paused and stood facing the invalid in silent embarrassment,
for his cheeks were flushed, and he looked so supremely uncomfortable
that it was evident he had overheard the loud-toned conversation which
had been carried on between the brother and sisters. Norah looked at
him and saw a young fellow who looked much older and more formidable
than he had done in his unconsciousness the night before, for his grey
eyes had curious, dilating pupils, and a faint mark on the upper lip
showed where the moustache of the future was to be. The stranger looked
at Norah, and saw a tall, slim girl, with masses of dark hair falling
down her back, heavily marked eyebrows, and a bright, sharply cut little
face, which was very attractive, if it could not strictly be called
pretty.

"How do you do?" said Norah desperately. "I hope you are quite--I mean,
I hope your foot is better. I am glad you are able to get up."

"Thank you very much. It's all right so long as I lie still. It's very
good of you to let me stay here. I hope I'm not a great nuisance."

"Oh, not at all. I'm sure you are not. I'm not the eldest, you know,
I'm only the third, so I have nothing to do with the housekeeping, but
there are so many of us that one more doesn't make any difference. My
name is Norah."

"And mine is Reginald, but I am always called Rex. Please don't trouble
about me if you have anything else to do. If you would give me a book,
I'd amuse myself."

"Are you fond of reading?"

"No, I hate it--that is to say, I like it very much, of course, but I
have had so much of it for the last two years that I sometimes feel that
I hate the sight of a book. But it's different here, for a few hours."

"I think I'l