"Goodmorning, Miss Derinzy," said George; "you are late in coming among us. I was just asking your servant what had become of you." "My servant! Oh, you mean Mrs. Stothard. Have you been talking to that horrid woman? What has she been saying to you? "You mustn't call her a horrid woman; she has been speaking very nicely of you, and said she would send you to take a turn in the grounds with me; so I don't think her a horrid woman, of course." "She is a horrid woman, all the same," said Annette, "and I hate her; though I shall like taking a turn in the grounds with you. Let us come out at once. What a lovely morning!" "Yes," said George, as they stood on the steps, "but not lovely enough for you to come out without a hat; the air is anything but warm." "It strikes cold to you Londoners," said Annette, laughing; and as she laughed, her eyes sparkled and her colour came, and George could not help thinking how remarkably pretty she looked; "but I do not feel it one bit too fresh; I hate having anything on my head." "Do you never wear a hat?" "Only when I go into the village with Mrs. Derinzy, never here in the grounds. I hate anything that weighs on my head or gives me any sense of oppression there; always when I feel my head hot I think I am going to be ill." "Ay, I was sorry to hear that you were so frequently an invalid," said George. "Yes," said the girl, "I often think the house, instead of the Tower, should be called the Hospital. Mrs. Derinzy, you know, is very often ill; so ill sometimes, that Dr. Wainwright has to come from London to see her." "So I have heard," said George. "Do you know my father?" "I have seen him very often when he has been down here to visit my aunt." "He has never attended you, I suppose, Miss Derinzy?" asked George, looking at her closely. "Dr. Wainwright attend me! Oh dear, no," said Annette; "there was never any occasion for his doing so." "Like most unselfish people, you make light of your own troubles," said George, "and exaggerate those of other people." "No, indeed," said Annette; "my ailments are trifles compared with those of Mrs. Derinzy." "How do you feel when you are ill?" asked George. "What a curious man you are? what curious questions you ask! Why do you take any interest in me and my ailments?" "In you, because--well, I can only say that I find you very interesting," said George, with a smile; "and in your illness because I am a doctor's son, you know, and understand something of a doctor's work." "Well, I can scarcely call mine illnesses," said the girl; "for such as they are, I and Mrs. Stothard--the woman you were just talking to--manage them between us. I feel a sort of heavy burning sensation in my brain, a buzzing in my ears, and a dimness of sight, and then I faint away, and I know of nothing that happens, how the time goes by, or what is said or done around me, until I come to myself, and feel, oh, so horribly weak and tired!"