She did not rise when he entered the room, she did not alter her attitude, and there was not a shade of embarrassment in her manner. In reply to his salutation she merely bent her head, and spoke in the low distinct tone, as soothing to an invalid as a whisper is distracting. "There is not much change," she said; "it is not yet to be expected." George looked at Paul closely and silently. "I expected to have found his mother here," he said. "I wrote and told her of his illness." "But you did not tell her I was here?" "No," said George in surprise, "I did not think it necessary. I concluded she would see you here, and learn from your own lips, and your presence, the service you are doing Paul." The sick man moaned slightly, and she dexterously shifted his head upon the pillow before she answered, with a dim dubious smile: "I believe Mrs. Derinzy is a very well-bred person, quite a woman of the world. She would hardly commit herself to an interview with me." The girl's proud eyes fixed themselves upon George's face, as she said these few words, without any embarrassment. "I--I beg your pardon," stammered George; "I ought to have seen Mrs. Derinzy, and prepared her--I mean told her. I shrank from seeing her, from a personal motive, and--and I fear thoughtlessly sacrificed you, in some measure, to this reluctance. I wonder she could go away without seeing her son." "Do you? I do not. The standard of the actions of a woman of the world may not be comprehensible to you, Mr. Wainwright; but we outsiders, yet on-lookers, understand it well enough." She glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf, softly withdrew her hand from Paul's, and administered medicine to him, he, seemingly unconscious, moaning heavily the while. "I shall see Mrs. Derinzy," said George, "and explain to her. Forgive me, Miss Stafford, pray forgive me, if I express myself awkwardly; I really feel quite astray and at a loss. Things have changed so much since I last talked with you, though that was only yesterday. I shall have to give Mrs. Derinzy not only an explanation of the past and the present, but some notion of what is to be expected in the future. Do not think me impertinent, do not think me unfeeling, but I must, for your own sake, in order to place you in the position it is right, it is due to you, that you should occupy in the estimation of Paul's mother--I must ask you, what do you purpose--what do you intend the future shall mean for you and him?" Daisy did not reply, until George began to feel impatient of her silence. Her hand again lay on Paul's forehead, her brow was overcast and knitted; she was thinking deeply. At length she said: "Explain the past as you please, Mr. Wainwright--as Paul has told it to you, I make no doubt--truly, honestly, as a gentleman, as a man of honour should; relate the present as you know it to be--the story of our interview, and of the step I have taken in consequence of it; but of the future, say nothing."