When he entered she was sitting up in an easy chair, wrapped in a pretty dressing-gown of pink merino, braided and trimmed after her own fanciful ideas, a white shawl thrown over her shoulders, the flossy hair shading her face, and looking altogether quite another creature. For the first time since Elizabeth's departure, a feeling of relief loosened the oppression on Mellen's heart. "You look so well again; God bless you, darling!" "Of course I'm pretty!" she cried childishly, pointing to herself in the glass. "I shall make a nice little visitor." "You will always be one, my sunbeam," he said. She shivered a little at his words, but she would not permit herself to think, determined to have her old carelessness, her old peace back, if she could grasp it. "How is Tom?" she asked. "Dreadfully anxious about you, poor fellow." "Did he ask for Bessie?" "Yes--yes." "But you said nothing?" "No, Elsie; he knows nothing." "That is right," she said; "I can tell him better than you. Be kind to him, Grant." "Yes, dear; he saved your life; Tom is very dear to me; poor fellow." "I am to be a visitor, remember," she said childishly; "You must not forget that." "I will forget nothing that can give you pleasure, be certain of that," he answered, kindly. "Now you shall lead me downstairs," she said. "You must not walk; I will carry you." "No, no; I am so heavy." But he took her in his arms and carried her downstairs, as he had so often done in her childhood, while Victoria followed with cushions and shawls to make her perfectly comfortable. "I am your baby again, Grant! Don't you remember how you used to carry me about?" "Indeed I do; you are not much larger now." "You saucy thing! I would pull your hair only I am afraid you would let me fall." He carried her into the library and laid her on the sofa. Tom sprang forward with a cry of terror at the change his absence had made in her appearance, but a gesture from Mellen warned him that he must control his feelings lest his anxiety should agitate her. "I am so glad to see you, Tom, so very glad," she said, clasping her delicate fingers about his hands, and so filling him with delight by her look and words that he could not even remember to be anxious. "It has seemed an age to me since I went away," said Tom. "And you have been sick, little princess, and Bessie gone! that is strange." "There, there," cried Elsie; "you must not talk about my appearance or sickness or anything else! Just tell me how pretty I look, and do nothing but amuse me." "You seem like an angel of light," cried Tom, looking wistfully at her little hand, as if he longed to hide it away in his broad palm. The fire burned cheerfully in the grate, the chandeliers were lighted, the tea-table spread, and everything done to make the room pleasant which could suggest itself to Dolf and Victoria, in their anxiety to please the young favorite. "It is so pleasant," she said, with a sigh of relief; "so pleasant."