Another long, long day dragged itself out. Aldred was in the very lowest of low spirits. She had ventured to beg for a book, but Burke promptly replied that the doctor had forbidden either reading or conversation, and had recommended her to keep perfectly quiet. So there was nothing for it but to lie with half-closed eyes, listening to the everlasting click of Burke's knitting needles, an irritating sound in itself, and made worse by its monotony. Aldred counted the spots on the muslin blinds and the roses on the chintz bed curtains, and tried to imagine faces in the pattern of the wall paper; she recited in her mind every piece of poetry that she knew, and as much as she could remember of the play the girls had acted at Christmas. She was even reduced to repeating French verbs, to relieve her utter boredom; and hardly knew whether to be glad or apprehensive when Mabel paid her a visit at seven o'clock. "We've had a glorious afternoon," said the latter. "The road was free, so we spun along, and got to Evington in an hour and a half. Cousin Marion was so delighted to see us! She'd have been very disappointed if we hadn't gone." "I'm so glad you did!" put in Aldred. "But she was fearfully disappointed not to see you, darling, and so sorry when we told her you were ill. We talked about you for quite a long time. Didn't your ears burn this afternoon?" "I didn't notice." "Well, I'm sure they ought to have done so. I won't tell you all we said, because you don't like to be praised, but you'd have been very flattered if you'd heard. Cousin Marion remembers you quite distinctly." "I shouldn't know her." "I dare say not; you wouldn't notice her particularly at Seaforth. By the by--isn't it absurd?--Cousin Marion actually thought you had sisters!" "Why should she suppose so?" Aldred's voice was uneasy. "She said they were with you, and so like you--one a little older, and the other younger." "How ridiculous!" "Yes, I told her you are the only girl. Perhaps you had some friends with you at the concert?" "I expect I had. I really can't remember now." "And another funny thing: she said she was sure your name was Mary." "So it is, Aldred Mary, after my mother," replied Aldred, thankful to be able to say what was really the case, though she knew her truth was only further aiding her deception. "That explains it, of course. I suppose the newspaper forgot the 'Aldred', and simply put 'Miss Mary Laurence'. Newspaper reporters often make mistakes." "So do other people," thought Aldred, though she did not say it aloud. "We were so anxious for Cousin Marion to come over to Grassingford," continued Mabel. "Mother wanted to bring her home with us this afternoon, to stay for a few days, but she wouldn't be persuaded. She says her doctor has forbidden her to motor." "Then won't she be coming at all?" Aldred tried to speak unconcernedly, but she could not quite banish the anxiety from her tone.