"It's no use," Teresa said gloomily. "All the remedies in the world won't stop my colds when they once get a start. They begin on my chest, and work steadily up to my head, and I'm fit for nothing but a desert island for a week or ten days. I came out to-day because I knew it would be my last chance. I shall be worse for it, of course; but I don't care. I had to see Dane." "Well!" cried Peignton with an air of imparting solace, "if you are going to drive home there is no need to hurry. Now that the Squire is in and we are a four, what about a game of bridge?" "Well thought of! So we will! Good idea!" cried the Squire heartily. Teresa smiled; a thin, artificial smile. At seven o'clock Cassandra wrapped her visitor in a warm coat, and walked beside her down the staircase. During the pauses of the game the wheezing of which Dane had spoken had been distinctly audible, and there was no doubt that the girl was in the initial stage of a chest cold. She was low-spirited too, impatient with the contrariety of fate. "Just my luck!" she said crossly. "Now, of all times, when Dane has this tiresome ankle, and needs me to cheer him up. A man hates sitting still, and of course you have a hundred engagements. If he'd been with us, I could have amused him all day long." "It wouldn't have been very amusing for him, if you had been in bed with an attack of bronchitis! It _is_ hard luck, Teresa. But you must nurse yourself, and get better quickly. Captain Peignton will soon be able to come to see you. Till then, I'll do everything I can." "Oh, I know you will. Of course. You are most awfully kind. But _still_!" cried Teresa eloquently. Cassandra went back to her boudoir, and stood face to face with her own thoughts. What a complex thing was human nature; how many separate selves went up to make a whole! One part of her was sorry, quite honestly and unfeignedly sorry for Teresa, in that she was debarred from ministering to her lover during his confinement; another part rejoiced with a ruthless joy. For three or four days out of a lifetime, fate had decreed that Dane should be left in her own charge, dependent upon her for society. She clutched at her chance with greedy hands. "They are all I shall have. I shall have to live on them all my life," Cassandra said in her heart. Then her lips trembled, and she spoke aloud in a low, trembling voice. "I suppose I love him. I suppose that's what it means.--I _know_ I love him! Oh, Teresa, it won't hurt you to spare him to me for just four days!" CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. OUT OF THE CAGE. Teresa's attack of bronchitis kept her on the sick list for several weeks, and it was not until she was able to go about the house as usual, that Mary found an opportunity for escape.