Once a fortnight, a letter from Marion, filled with news of the little fellow, came to gladden the mother's heart. His sayings and doings, even the most trivial, were treasured up by her. In the last letter there had come a photograph of the boy, dressed in his winter outfit, in which he looked so bright and beautiful, that she could scarce refrain from rushing into Paul's chamber to exhibit it; but Edward's entreaties, and her own reflections prevailed. So far, the sick man had never in direct terms told her that his affection for her was stronger than it was during the days of their first acquaintance; but should she lessen the dignity and reserve of manner which she had carefully maintained in all their intercourse, she could readily perceive it would be far more difficult for him to conceal the feelings which were growing too strong for him. Paul learned from Pedro that every evening the parlors were crowded with visitors; often mentioning persons of distinction, with whom he himself had never aspired to associate. From his physician he heard of the estimation in which his benefactors were held. Mrs. Wallingford was considered the most elegant, highly educated and attractive American who had visited Rome for years; and her brother the model of a gentleman. "There is a certain English nobleman," he added, without a suspicion of the eagerness with which his patient hung on his words, "who is greatly enamoured. At first, Mrs. Wallingford was supposed to be a wife, instead of sister to the gentleman; and his delight may be imagined when the relationship became known." "Is he a man of wealth and influence?" inquired Paul, trying in vain to keep his voice from trembling. "He is the owner of that, elegant villa on the Tiber," was the reply; "and I am told is very prominent in the House of Lords." The sick man groaned aloud; but presently inquired: "Have you heard whether she favors his suit?" "I think he would be better pleased if she would exhibit less dignity and self-possession. I hope he will be successful." "Pedro," said his master, one day, "I am afraid my being here so long, will be a great expense." "Mr. Wallingford is very rich," was the answer. "Money plenty; poor people coming from morning till night and none sent away hungry." The listener wondered much at this; and the next time Edward visited him said with some confusion: "I am here too long. I am an expense to you which I have no means to pay." "Don't give yourself uneasiness on that account, Paul. My sister and I have enough to enable us to enjoy the luxury of giving to our friends. You look surprised; did you never hear that we inherited half a million between us?"