Here the door at the other end of the large room opened, and Dr. Kirby came in; he had returned as soon as possible, putting off all other engagements. "You look better," he said to his patient, with his hand on her pulse. "Come, this is doing well." "I am better," murmured Mrs. Thorne, looking gratefully at Margaret. Mrs. Carew soon followed the Doctor; Margaret went down to the garden to find Garda, the girl who was to become so unexpectedly her charge. For she shared the mother's feeling; the illness might advance slowly, but it would conquer in the end. Garda was in the garden, lying at full length under the great rose-tree, on a shawl which she had spread upon the ground; her hands were clasped under her head, and she was gazing up into the sky. Carlos, standing near, with his neck acutely arched, his breast puffed out and his beak thrust in among the feathers, looked like a gentleman of the old school in a ruffled shirt, with his hand in the breast of his coat. "Does mamma want me?" asked Garda, as Margaret came up. "Dr. Kirby and Mrs. Carew are there. No, I do not think she wants you at present." "Come down on the shawl, then, and look up into the sky," pursued Garda. "I've never tried it before--looking straight up in this way--and I assure you I can see miles!" "I'm not such a sun-worshipper as you are," answered Margaret, taking a seat on the bench in the shade. "The sun's almost down. No, it isn't the sun, it's because you never in the world could stretch yourself out full length on the ground, as I'm doing now. The ground's nice and warm, and I love to lie on it; but you--you have always sat in chairs, you have been drilled." "Yes, I have been drilled," answered Margaret, sombrely, looking at the graceful figure on the shawl. Garda did not notice the sombre tone, her attention was up in the sky. After a while she said, "Mr. Winthrop hasn't been here to-day; I wonder why?" "He won't be able to come so often while I am here, he will have to see to Aunt Katrina." "Mist' Wintarp desiahs to know whedder you's tome, Miss Gyarda," said the voice of old Pablo. "I tole him I _farnsied_ you was in de gyarden." Pablo recognized Garda as a Duero; he treated her therefore with respect, and benignant affection. Winthrop now appeared at the garden gate, and Margaret rose. "Perhaps I had better go in, too?" said Garda. "No, stay as long as you like; I will send word, if your mother asks for you," Margaret responded. She left the garden by another way. When she had gone some distance, she looked back. Garda had changed her position; she was still looking at the sky, though she was no longer lying at length; she had curled herself up, and was leaning against a dwarf tree. Winthrop was in Margaret's place on the bench, and Garda had evidently spoken to him of the sky, for he, too, was looking up.