Roy shook his head despondingly. 'I should do better if I could see something different from these four walls,' he returned, with a discontented glance round the room that Mildred had made so bright and pretty; 'it is absurd keeping me moped up here, but Aunt Milly is inexorable.' Mildred smiled over her boy's peevishness. 'He does not know what is good for him,' she returned, gently; 'he always gets restless towards evening. Dr. Blenkinsop has been most strict in bidding me keep him from excitement and not to let him talk with any one. This is the first day he has withdrawn his prohibition, and Roy has been in his tantrums ever since.' 'He said I might go downstairs if only I were spared the trouble of walking,' grumbled Roy, who sometimes tyrannised over Aunt Milly--and dearly she loved such tyranny. 'He is more like a spoiled child than ever,' she said, laughing. 'If that be all, the difficulty is soon obviated. I can carry him easily,' returned Richard, looking down a little sadly at the long gaunt figure before him, looking strangely shrunken in the brilliant dressing-gown that was Roy's special glory; 'but I must be careful, you look thin and brittle enough to break.' 'May he, Aunt Milly? Oh, I do so long to see the old studio again, and the couch is so much more comfortable than this,' his eyes beginning to shine with excitement and his colour varying dangerously. 'Is it quite prudent, Richard?' she asked, hesitatingly. 'Had we not better wait till to-morrow?' but Roy's eagerness overbore her scruples. Polly little knew what surprise was in store for her. Her race over, she walked along soberly, wondering how she should occupy herself that evening. She, too, knew that Dr. Blenkinsop's prohibition had been removed, and had chafed a little restlessly when Mildred had asked her to be patient till the next day. 'Aunt Milly is too careful; she does not think how I long to see him,' she said, as she walked slowly home. A light streamed across the dark garden when she reached The Hollies; a radiance of firelight and lamplight. 'I wonder if Richard has come,' thought Polly, as she stole into the little passage and gently opened the door. Yes, Richard was there; his square, thick-set figure blocking up the fireplace as he leant in his favourite attitude against the mantelpiece; and there was Aunt Milly, smiling as though something pleased her. And yes, surely that was Roy's wraith wrapped in the gorgeous dressing-gown and supported by pillows. The blood rushed to the girl's face as she stood for a moment as though spell-bound, but at the sound of her half-suppressed exclamation he turned his head feebly and looked at her. 'Polly' was all he said, but at his voice she had sprung across the room, and as he stretched out his thin hand to her with an attempt at his old smile, a low sob had risen to her lips, and, utterly overcome by the spectacle of his weakness, she buried her face in his pillows. Roy's eyes grew moist with sympathy.