She really was growing very much attached to this young girl, yet there were times when her sturdy good-humour ceased, and she shut herself in her room in an unapproachable temper. Chelda never varied in her treatment of Derrice. She sought her company, she was always good-tempered and agreeable, interested and never jealous, and at frequent intervals made ingenious suggestions that started the girl on her favourite topic of conversation,--her life with her idolised father. Justin was still away, but one day, after a fortnight's absence, a letter was received from him. Mr. Huntington had been summoned to the bedside of his dying father. Justin was therefore at liberty to return to Rossignol. Derrice, with eyes full of tears at the thought of Mr. Huntington's affliction, was yet conscious of a singing at her heart at the thought of her husband's return. However, she showed no sign of emotion, and Miss Gastonguay, who had been watching her, said, "I believe that young man has frightened all the spirit out of you." "What young man?" asked Derrice, in surprise. "Your husband, of course." "Why, I have been trying to be proper and dignified. I have been afraid you would think me giddy." "Giddy,--good gracious, I like to see young people frisk a bit." "If I might," said Derrice, cautiously, "if I might, I should like at this present moment to do something." "What is it?" "I should like to run around the house the way the Negus children do." "Come along," said her hostess, laconically, and marching to the hall she threw open the large front door. Derrice caught up the train of her evening gown and disappeared like a flash around one end of the house. March was over, with its alternations of heat and cold, snow banks and running rivulets. The gravelled walks were now dry and firm after the warm April sunshine of the day, and Derrice ran until she was tired, then fluttering her precious letter in her hand she sank on the steps at Miss Gastonguay's feet. "Come in, child," said that lady, "and have your evening cup of tea, and then play a game of bagatelle with me. That will keep you on your feet. I think I'll change my mind; your spirit is not all gone." Later on--in the middle of the night--Miss Gastonguay emphasised this decision. Derrice's spirit certainly was not gone. For the rest of the evening the girl was like one moving in an enchanted dream. Her eyes shone, her cheeks glowed, her hair glittered in the lamplight like a crown set over her fair brows. Miss Gastonguay, fascinated by her beauty, could not keep her gaze from her, and even Chelda threw her a frequent glance of an apparently generous admiration. They did not go to bed until a late hour, but Derrice was too much excited to sleep long. She dropped into one short nap, then her excited brain, having thrown this sop to her fatigued body, woke her up and drove her to the window.