She found her time fully occupied through these long summer days. Louise was a regular weekly visitor. She had taken a violent, almost schoolgirl adoration for Anstice, and though she was not willing at present to discuss religious matters with her, she was, in other respects, as clay in her hands. She had started a garden, and it was taking hold of her: she was reading with avidity all the books that Anstice could lend her, and her outlook on life was happier. She had been to see old Tommy Nixon and his sister, and confessed that their cheery content did her good. "But," she said, "they are old, and I am young. And the woman has outgrown all restlessness." One day she invited Anstice over to lunch. Her uncle smartened himself up for the occasion, and struck Anstice as being a courteous scholar of the old school. He and she discussed books together, for Anstice had always been a great reader, and Louise said afterwards that her uncle had talked more that day in an hour than he had done for a year when only with her. Anstice was gradually increasing her circle of acquaintances. Colonel and Mrs. McInnes, who were regular church-goers, were very friendly. Their daughters for a time held aloof; then, when they found Anstice a good tennis player, persuaded her to come over sometimes to play with them. There were a certain amount of summer visitors who were making the neighbourhood quite gay. Anstice went to one or two garden-parties and some local Fêtes and Flower-shows, but she preferred being quiet at home. When the holidays began, she had a tennis-court marked out on the smooth level lawn, and instituted tennis as a pastime for the little girls. They took to it at once, and it kept them out of mischief. Picnics on the Fells, and on the lake; expeditions with the pony taking Ruffie, ending up with farm-house teas, and occasional children's parties at home—these all filled up the holiday time, and made life enjoyable. So the summer passed, lessons began again, and then came a wet spell of autumn mists and rain. Louise did not appear for three weeks, then Anstice heard she was ill, and one day when the rain seemed to have cleared, she tramped over the Fells herself to see how she was. She found her in bed with bronchitis; she had narrowly escaped pneumonia, and was lying very weak and dispirited. When she saw Anstice come into the room, she looked up with real interest. For days, her uncle said she had lain, saying nothing, and only taking food from the little maid, Mary, who waited upon her. "Oh," she said in a weak voice; "I have wanted you so much. I thought I was going to die, and I was almost glad, and then I began to get frightened and I prayed that I might be given another chance. But I have been so lonely and miserable, and the rain has beaten against my windows and the wind howled in the chimneys, and I felt as bad as I did before you came!" "My poor child!" Anstice laid her hand caressingly against her cheek.