‘Bab, dear sister,’ said the young girl, ‘let me sit by him now. You must have a nap. You take everything upon you—you are tired. Why, Barbara, surely you have been crying?’ ‘I——crying!’ exclaimed the elder angrily. ‘What have I had to make me cry? No; I am tired, and my eyes burn.’ ‘Then close them and sleep for a couple of hours.’ Barbara left the room and shut the door behind her. In the early morning none of the servants could be spared to sit with the sick man. Eve went to the table and arranged a bunch of oxlips, dripping with dew, in a glass of water. ‘How sweet they are!’ she said, smiling. ‘Smell them, they will do you good. These are of the old monks’ planting; they grow in abundance in the orchard, but nowhere else. The oxlips and the orchis suit together perfectly. If the oxlip had been a little more yellow and the orchis a little more purple, they would have made an ill-assorted posy.’ Jasper looked at the flowers, then at her. ‘Are you her sister?’ ‘What, Barbara’s sister?’ ‘Yes, her name is Barbara.’ ‘Of course I am.’ He looked at Eve. He could trace in her no likeness to her sister. Involuntarily he said, ‘You are very beautiful.’ She coloured—with pleasure. Twice within a few days the same compliment had been paid her. ‘What is your name, young lady?’ ‘My name is Eve.’ ‘Eve!’ repeated Jasper. ‘How strange!’ Twice also, within a few days, had this remark been passed on her name. ‘Why should it be strange?’ ‘Because that was also the name of my mother and of my sister.’ ‘Is your mother alive?’ He shook his head. ‘And your sister?’ ‘I do not know. I remember her only faintly, and my father never speaks of her.’ Then he changed the subject. ‘You are very unlike Miss Barbara. I should not have supposed you were sisters.’ ‘We are half-sisters. We had not the same mother.’ He was exhausted with speaking, and turned towards the wall. Eve seated herself in the chair vacated by Barbara. She occupied her fingers with making a cowslip ball, and when it was made she tossed it. Then, as he moved, she feared that she disturbed him, so she put the ball on the table, from which, however, it rolled off. Jasper turned as she was groping for it. ‘Do I trouble you?’ she said. ‘Honour bright, I will sit quiet.’ How beautiful she looked with her chestnut hair; how delicate and pearly was her lovely neck; what sweet eyes were hers, blue as a heaven full of sunshine! ‘Have you sat much with me, Miss Eve, whilst I have been ill?’ ‘Not much; my sister would not suffer me. I am such a fidget that she thought I might irritate you; such a giddypate that I might forget your draughts and compresses. Barbara is one of those people who do all things themselves, and rely on no one else.’ ‘I must have given Miss Barbara much trouble. How good she has been!’