When Miss Cherry in her turn was introduced into the bedroom in which Mrs. Beresford still lay, resting herself, she all but cried out with sudden panic. She only just stopped herself in time; her mouth was open; her tongue in the very act of forming the ‘Oh!’ when her brother’s look stopped her. Not that he saw what she was going to say, or all the effect his wife’s changed looks had upon her. He himself had got used to them. He asked her, half aside, ‘How do you think she is looking?’ with an eager look in his eyes. ‘She is looking--tired,’ said Miss Cherry. ‘Most people do after travelling all night. I could not have lifted my head from the pillow; but Annie had always so much spirit.’ ‘Yes; she has no end of spirit,’ said poor James Beresford, looking admiringly at his wife. He flattered himself, poor fellow! that Cherry had not remarked the thinness of the worn face, beside which her own faintly-coloured old maid’s countenance almost looked fresh and round and blooming. He had been alarmed at the thought of what ‘they’ would think of her looks; but now his spirits rose. Cherry did not seem to have remarked it; and what a hypocrite poor Cherry felt, sitting there smiling, with her heart sinking more and more every moment! ‘What will he do without his wife?’ she was asking herself. And, alas! that wife’s worn looks; her fretful little outbursts of impatience; all her caprices and restlessness betrayed a progress of evil more rapid than any one had even feared. ‘Does Mr. Maxwell know you have come back? He will want to see you. He was always so anxious to have news of you,’ she said, falteringly. ‘We have forgotten what doctors are like,’ said Mrs. Beresford. ‘I don’t want ever to renew my acquaintance with them. James, send him a note, and let him come to dinner. Yes, Cara! What has my pet got to say?’ ‘You said two different things at once, mamma--that you did not want to see doctors again, and that Mr. Maxwell was to come to dinner.’ ‘I told you she was an idealist,’ said Mrs. Beresford, smiling. Then, changing--as she had got into a way of doing,--in a moment, she added, ‘Get down from the bed, Cara; you tire me. There, sit there, further back. Children flutter so; they are always in motion. Cherry is still--she is a comfort; and, James, Mrs. Meredith can come, if she likes to come before I get up. She is a soft, tranquil woman, like Cherry; silly, perhaps, but that does not matter. When one is over tired, silly people who don’t fatigue one are the best----’