ea almost sobbed; 'you are an angel. Of course I want
you to stay for as long as you will; of course I love to have you here.'
He was an angel, indeed, she felt, and another dart of hostility towards
Helen went through her--Helen, cynical, unspiritual, blind to angels.

So Franklin stayed on, and the next day another guest arrived. It was at
breakfast that Althea found at her place a little note from Gerald Digby
asking her very prettily if she could take him in that evening. He was
in town and would start at once if she could wire that he might come.
Althea controlled, as best she could, her shock of delight. He had,
then, intended to come; he had not forgotten all about her. Even if she
counted only in his memory as tenant, it was good, she felt it
helplessly and blissfully, to count in any way with Gerald Digby. She
did not analyse and hardly recognised these sentiments, yet she strongly
felt the need for composure, and it was only with an air of soft
exhilaration that she made the announcement over the table to Helen.
'Isn't it nice, Helen? Mr. Digby is coming this evening.' The soft
exhilaration could not be noticeable, for everybody seemed in some
degree to share it.

'Dear Gerald, how delightful!' said Lady Pickering, with, to Althea's
consciousness, too much an air of possessorship. 'Gerald is a splendid
actor, Miss Pepperell,' Sir Charles said to Dorothy. 'Miss Buchanan, you
and he must do some of your best parts together.' The girls were full of
expectancy. It was Helen herself who looked least illuminated by the
news; but then, as Althea realised, to Helen Gerald must be the most
matter-of-fact thing in life.

They were all sitting under the trees on the lawn when Gerald arrived;
he had not lost the best train. Every one was in white, except Helen who
wore black, and Franklin who wore grey; every one was lolling on the
grass or extended on chairs, except Aunt Julia, erect and embroidering,
and Althea who was giving her attention to tea. It had just been poured
out when Gerald came strolling over the lawn towards them.

He carried his Panama hat doubled in his hand; he looked exquisitely
cool, and he glanced about him as he came, well pleased, apparently, to
find himself again in his old home. Althea felt his manner of
approaching them to be characteristic; it was at once so desultory and
so pleasant.

'You look like a flock of doves,' he said, as, smiling, he took Althea's
welcoming hand and surveyed the