"She will live," he said, as he parted with Aunt Patty outside, under the quiet stars. "All danger is over now, I believe." It was several days, however, before Ida knew who it was who bent over her so lovingly, who soothed and tended her with all a mother's care, whose kindly hands bathed her fevered face, whose feet were ever ready to move at the least need. A week later, however, Ida was able to sit up, and the healthy color was stealing into her pale cheeks. She enjoyed sitting by the open window, where she could watch the restless ocean. Mrs. Leverton had written that they must stay in the cottage until Ida was entirely well. Old Dinah kept house for them, and had become devoted to Aunt Patty. "Yo' aunt ain't nuffin' on fash'nable style," she confided to Ida, "but she's a bawn lady, sho's de worl'. She doan nebbah hector nobody." "I think you'll be able to travel by Saturday, Ida," Aunt Patty said one day. "Doctor Stone thinks there wouldn't be any risk now in your undertaking the journey." "And, oh, how glad I will be to get home again," said Ida. "Does it really seem like home, dear?" "Yes, Aunt Patty. A better home than I deserve, and I can't share it again with you and Cynthia until I have told you something." Aunt Patty drew near the chair in which Ida sat, and, standing at the back of it, put both arms around her. She could feel that Ida trembled a little. "Of course you'll forgive me," went on Ida, "for you are so good, you could never feel harshly toward any one, however great the provocation. I did many unkind and even cruel things when I was at the farm this summer, Aunt Patty. When I think of them I don't understand how I _could_ have acted so. I know it would be impossible for me to do such things now." "You have had a change of heart, Ida." "Oh, Aunt Patty, I hope so. There was need of a change. I can look back and see it now, though I used to think myself almost perfection." "And now?" "I see all my faults," said Ida, "and I realize how patient, generous, and forgiving you and Cynthia were all those unhappy weeks. Aunt Patty, one of the things I must tell you is that I deceived Cynthia about that lawn party. Mrs. Lennox _did_ invite her." "She knew that, dear." "Knew that she was invited? Oh, Aunt Patty!" "Yes; you see, I felt sure Mrs. Lennox must have intended to invite you both, and as Cynthia was so terribly hurt and disappointed, what did I do but go straight to Mrs. Lennox and ask her about it. She said of course Cynthy was to come, and she would depend on seein' her; that she was so sorry her invitation had not been understood." "And you told Cynthia?" "Yes; but not meaning any harm to you, Ida. I never thought but what you had made a mistake, and as you seemed a little unhappy ever since Mrs. Lennox had called. I made sure you were grievin' because Cynthy wasn't to go with you."