"The flowers are even sweeter than I thought them," she said, presently, and her face flushed a little. "I thought the day would be so blank, and that I should just lie here missing Fergus. He always made such a fuss on my birthdays; they were red-letter days to him, and now this friendly message has come to me. Give me my writing-case, Livy. I must scrawl a few lines to your old gentleman," and she refused to dictate the note to Olivia. "MY DEAR SIR," she wrote, "do you know what you have done? You have given a poor invalid a very happy day. Your beautiful flowers have come to me like a lovely message of sympathy and goodwill from an unknown friend. "If you were ever sad and lonely, if life has not always been easy to you, it will sweeten your solitary hours to know that you have given enjoyment to a crippled sufferer. "To-day is my birthday, the forty-sixth milestone on my life's journey. During a long, wakeful night of pain I have been counting up past blessings, and the new day seemed a blank to me, and then your flowers came, and I thanked God and took courage. "Dear sir, I remain, "Yours gratefully, "MARGARET BRODERICK (widow)." That was one of Aunt Madge's fads, one of her harmless little peculiarities, to sign herself in that fashion. "There is so much in the word widow," she would say; "if it were not for seeming odd or making people smile, I would always sign myself 'Fergus's widow,' instead of my proper name," but nothing could induce her to send even a note without that curious signature. Olivia could not quite get over her grievance of forgetting Aunt Madge's birthday. "It was so horrid of me," she said, with a long face, "but, anyhow, I will come to tea." "No, dear, not to-day," returned Mrs. Broderick, quietly. "To-morrow Deb and I will be delighted to welcome you. And Deb shall bake some shortbread and scones. Marcus might come too, it is long since I saw him." "But why not to-day, dear Aunt Madge?" persisted Olivia, rather curiously. "Fergus and I always spent the day alone together, and I keep up the custom still," returned Mrs. Broderick, in a dreamy voice. "He never gave me his present until the evening, and it was always such a grand surprise. His last present to me was that revolving book-table. How splendid I thought it, and what a comfort it has been to me all these years. Don't look so serious, Livy, I don't mean to be dull, I never am, but I like to fancy that on my birthday I have Fergus near me still," and nothing that Olivia could say would shake her resolution. Olivia hesitated to repeat her visit to Galvaston House, and when she consulted Marcus he advised her to wait a little. "We must not be too pushing. I daresay one of these days Mr. Gaythorne will send you another message. He is rather ailing and out of sorts just now, and inclined to bristle up at a word," but, though Marcus laughed in this way, he had not found his berth an easy one.