The day was hot and close, and the narrow streets of old Beaminster were peculiarly oppressive. It was delightful to bowl swiftly along the smooth high road, and to enter the cool green shades of the park round Helmsley Court. "How pleasant for Margaret to live here always!" Janetta said to herself with generous satisfaction in her friend's good fortune. "I wonder what she would do in Gwynne Street!" And then Janetta laughed, and felt that what suited _her_ would be very inappropriate to Margaret Adair. Janetta's unselfish admiration for her friend was as simple as it was true, and it was never alloyed by envy or toadyism. She would have been just as pleased to see Margaret in a garret as in a palace, supposing that Margaret were pleased with the garret. And it was with almost passionate delight that she at length flung herself into her friend's arms, and felt Margaret's soft lips pressed to her brown flushed cheeks. "Margaret! Oh, it is delightful to see you again!" she exclaimed. "You poor darling: did you think that we were never going to meet?" said Margaret. "I have been so sorry, dear----" "I knew that you would come to see me, or send for me as soon as you could," said Janetta quickly. "I trusted you, Margaret." "I have had such a bad cold," Margaret went on, still excusing herself a little, as it seemed to Janetta. "I have had to stay in two rooms for nearly a fortnight, and I went down to the drawing-room only last night." "I wish I could have nursed you! Don't you remember how I nursed you through one of your bad colds at school?" "Yes, indeed. I wish you could have nursed me now; but mamma was afraid that I had caught measles or scarlet fever or something, and she said it would not be right to send for you." Janetta was almost pained by the accent of continued excuse. "Of course, dear, I understand," she said, pressing her friend's arm caressingly. "I am so sorry you have been ill. You look quite pale, Margaret." The two girls were standing in Margaret's sitting-room, adjoining her bedroom. Margaret was dressed completely in white, with long white ribbons floating amongst the dainty folds of her attire; but the white dress, exquisitely as it was fashioned, was less becoming to her than usual, for her face had lost a little of its shell-like bloom. She turned at Janetta's words and surveyed herself a little anxiously in a long glass at her side. "I do look pale in this dress," she said. "Shall I change it, Janetta?" "Oh, no, dear," Janetta answered, in some surprise. "It is a charming dress." "But I do not like to look so pale," said Margaret, gravely. "I think I will ring for Villars." "You could not look nicer--to me--in any dress!" exclaimed her ardent admirer. "You dear--oh, yes; but there may be visitors at luncheon." "I thought you would be alone," faltered Janetta, with a momentary glance at her own neat and clean, but plain, little cotton frock.