"Your only child--and you lost her," murmured Olivia, sympathetically. "My only daughter," corrected Mr. Gaythorne, in a tone so peculiar, that Olivia raised her eyes, and then she felt a little frightened. There was a curious pallor on Mr. Gaythorne's face, which made it look like old ivory, and his bushy eyebrows were drawn closely together. "It is a sweet face--a dear face," returned Olivia, hurriedly. She was a little nervous over her mistake. "It is kind of you to show me this, and I like to think her name was Olive." And then she closed the case reverently and put it back in his hands. "I must go now," she said; "it has been such a lovely time, and you have taught me so much. Will you send for me again when you want to see me? I think that is best; it would be such a pity for me to disturb you when you felt tired or disinclined for visitors." "You are my only visitor," returned Mr. Gaythorne, in his old grim manner. "The Vicar's wife--what is the woman's name?--forced her way in one day, but I do not think her reception pleased her. The Vicar himself is an honest man. I have given him a hint that he will be welcome if he comes alone, but no bustling prying vicaress for me." "Oh, poor Mrs. Tolman; well, she is a little officious, as Marcus calls her, and I know she often sets Aunt Madge's nerves on edge." "Oh, by the way, I intend to send Mrs. Broderick some more flowers; will it be a trouble to you to take them, or shall one of the lasses carry them straight to her house?" "Oh, no; please let me have the pleasure of taking them. If you had only seen Aunt Madge's delight----" "She wrote me a pretty sort of note," returned Mr. Gaythorne; "but tell her not to do that again, gratitude is for favours to come; you may remind her of that. Does she always sign her name in that fashion--Margaret Broderick, widow----?" "Yes, always; it is one of Aunt Madge's whimsies; but you will never get her to alter." "It does not sound badly, but it is certainly unique. How would it answer if one were to follow her example. John Alwyn Gaythorne, widower," and here Mr. Gaythorne gave a short sardonic laugh. "Marcus! oh, Marcus!" exclaimed Olivia, coming into the room in her breezy fashion. "I have so much to tell you. Mr. Gaythorne is a widower--and he has lost his only daughter, and her name was Olivia, and that is why he has taken to me, because I remind him of her; but"--checking herself as she caught sight of her husband's face--"you have something to tell me too." "Only that they sent for me from Fairfax Lodge, that is that ivy-covered house next to Galvaston House. A child taken suddenly with croup. I have been there most of the afternoon." Then Olivia clapped her hands with a little exclamation of delight. Marcus's tone had been quite cool and matter-of-fact, but there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. The tide had turned at last. CHAPTER VII. BLOWING BUBBLES.