"And to think how I have scolded and blamed you for the quarrel between me and Ann," said her mother, tearfully; but Joscelyn's tender answer comforted her. "And here comes Betty to make her peace with you, too," Aunt Clevering said, as the breathless girl entered. "Oh, Betty and I have been friends these many weeks, as dear Mistress Strudwick can testify," Joscelyn said, putting her arm affectionately around Betty, who with a grateful cry had sprung to her side. And from the doorway, Richard thought he had never seen a more beautiful picture. Thus was the breach that had yawned between the two families healed; and the sorest ache in Joscelyn's heart was cured as she witnessed the happiness of her mother who, with a firmness scarcely to be expected, had given up her old friend and held stanchly to her daughter, although she held that daughter to blame. It was touching to see her childish delight in the renewal of the old relations. A dozen times a day she was in and out of the two houses, for Richard's wound afforded her many pretexts for kindly ministrations. He never left his bed except to lie on the sofa by the window, for his strength seemed suddenly to have failed him after the sustained effort he had made to reach home. Often he wished Joscelyn would come in her mother's stead; but for her own reasons the girl kept her distance, so that sometimes he did not see her for days together. And every day that she stayed away the jealous pain bit deeper into his heart. But one day she came of her own accord. There had been a knock and the sound of a man's voice at the door, followed by the maid making some excuse for Mistress Clevering; and presently, when all had grown silent, Betty came through the sitting-room with a face so white that Richard called out from where he lay to know what was the matter. But she did not stop to answer, and so he waited in a troubled doubt while the clock ticked off a slow twenty minutes. Then the door opened, and Joscelyn came straight up to his couch, a strange light of pleading in her eyes. "Richard," she said, and his face brightened, for she had taken to calling him Master Clevering with a formality he hated. "Richard, if a man be true and honest and loves a woman, should he not have the chance to tell her so and win her?" "Most assuredly." "And old feuds and differences of a former generation, with which he had nothing to do, should have no weight to hold him back?" "Why--what mean you?" "This; that even as you love me," and a brilliant colour dyed her cheeks at mention of it, "so does Eustace Singleton love Betty." "I had half guessed as much--and I am sorry." "And Betty loves him. Nay, lie still and look not so angrily at me. There is no one to blame; a woman's heart, like a man's, asks no permission in the giving of itself." "But Betty knew--" "Yes, she knew all the opposition in store for her, and she made her own fight; but love takes no dictation." "Right well do I know that."