It was the same in the evening, when, her lessons prepared for the following day, she would have been so very glad of a confidant. Gerald, as soon as he had finished his work, which he had done after many grumbles because his sister was no longer allowed to assist him, went out to join Reginald Hope, thus destroying her hopes of a chat with him that night. She saw very little of her brother nowadays, and sometimes it almost seemed to her that he loved her less than he used to. In the old time, in the dingy London lodgings, though he had always domineered over her, he had been generally affectionate and kind; now he was often impatient, and vexed with her when she could not see everything in the same light as he did; and he resented the fact that she did not help him with his lessons, quite unmindful that it was their father who had set his veto against her doing so. Mr. Willis was in his studio, busy over some illustrations for an order he had received by post that day; and knowing it would not do to disturb him, Angel put on her hat and strolled out to her own patch of garden, where she stood meditatively regarding the plants she had potted out a few days previously. She was thinking of her brother, and wondering why, though he had the same home and advantages as herself and the same reasons for happiness, he was not as contented as she was. He grumbled as much or more now than he had done in their London lodgings. Then he had bewailed their poverty; now, though he had plenty of the blessings of life, he still wished for more. Only that morning he had borrowed money from his sister, as he had been in the habit of doing lately—money which she knew he never meant to return; and whilst he kept her poor, he yet appeared never to have enough for himself. She was certain her father would be greatly displeased if he was aware of this; and at the same time she dreaded his knowing it, and yet realized that he ought to know. But she could not tell tales of Gerald! She had grown up to hide his faults, and make much of his good qualities, not wisely, of course, but with the sincere desire of shielding him from all unpleasantness because he was younger than she was, and the affection she bore him was a deep, protecting love. Besides, she had promised her mother to be good to Gerald, and she was trying to keep her word according to her own idea of what being good to him meant. Presently Mr. Bailey entered the garden, and interrupted her troubled meditation by calling to her to come and see how the apple blossom had opened during the last few days. She followed him into the orchard where the gnarled boughs of the old apple trees, so brown and bare a short while ago, were now one mass of pink and white bloom; and listened with the ready attention which always pleased her uncle whilst he pointed out the different spots where he intended planting new trees in the fall of the year.