‘I wonder does she think me silly?’ Miss Cherry said to herself; and it is to be feared there was not much doubt on the subject. After she had made this speech about Mrs. Meredith, next door, the invalid sent them all away, that she might rest. This was no more than a passing fancy, like other notions that flitted across her restless brain. They went down softly to the library, avoiding by common consent the drawing-room, which was _her_ room, and so closely associated with all her ways. There James Beresford interrogated his sister very closely. ‘You don’t see a very great change--nothing more than you expected?’ He was tired, too, poor fellow! worn out in body and in soul. ‘I think you should see Mr. Maxwell at once,’ said Miss Cherry, who was timid, and did not like to commit herself. ‘What does it matter what I think, who don’t know? I think she is perhaps--more worn than I expected; but then she has been travelling all night. Perhaps you ought not to have allowed her to do so much.’ ‘I? How could I help it? and I was too thankful to get home. How I hate those pleasure places! the more beautiful they are, the more terrible. I detest them. I shall never be able to endure mountains and lakes again--till Annie is better, he added, with such a miserable pretence at a smile that his kind sister almost broke down. She made up her mind to remain at his entreaty, though both of them had a doubt whether the invalid would like it. ‘Annie will be pleased, I am sure,’ he said, with hesitation. How well they all understood her! But quiet Miss Cherry felt no anger with the fanciful, capricious, suffering woman, who meant happiness in this house, notwithstanding all her uncertain moods and ways. ‘I will tell her I have something to do in town, and ask her to give me a bed for a few nights.’ ‘Aunt Cherry, you had nothing to do when we started; you meant to go home to-day.’ ‘Yes, Cara; but I should like to see your mamma get a little better.’ ‘Then please tell her so,’ said the child; ‘_please_ tell her so. I know what you think. You think she is very, very ill; but you will not say it. You try to deceive papa and me, and her too. I cannot bear to be deceived.’ ‘My dear, some time or other you will learn to know that one must not say everything one thinks; though indeed, indeed, I would always have you say the truth.’ ‘I shall never learn not to say what I think,’ said the little girl, with erect head and severe blue eyes fixed upon her aunt disapprovingly. Miss Cherry was nervous and easily disturbed. She could not bear even Cara’s disapproval, and she began to cry in spite of herself, even then not quite ingenuously she felt; for her disturbed nerves and her distress and sympathy for her brother were at the bottom of her emotion, though Cara’s severity gave an immediate reason for her tears.