Between the self-satisfied lines of this communication the listener reads how eternal must be the recumbency of Féodorovna, if continued until the suggested need for her arises; and how dire the sufferings of the victim. The interval between Miss Prince’s discouraging exit and her return seems long to the feverish candidate for an interview, which, as the moments pass, she begins hotly to feel is not desired by the person with whom it is asked. Susan has misled her--in her turn deceived by the well-meaning importunities of Mrs. Prince. To be persecuting him again after an interval of only five days! Probably he will regard her as a second Féodorovna! Her uncle’s pet-name recurs ironically to her mind--his Mosquito! She is going to be some one else’s mosquito, too. For the first time in her life she merits the name! “He will see you for a few minutes!” announces Miss Prince, reappearing at last. “Personally, I do not think it very prudent; but Nurse Blandy has made up her mind that he will be none the worse for it; and she always considers herself a Court of Final Appeal.” There are traces of past skirmish and present ill humour in Féodorovna’s appearance; but to both Lavinia is absolutely indifferent. With an immensely relieved, but still doubting, heart--for, after all, there has been no word of his wish or will--she follows the haughtily undulating figure of her guide through the same rooms, passages, and stairs as she had traversed with a deep, but immeasurably less deep, excitement five days ago. The lowered blinds, the lavished luxury of detail, the bed in the recess,--how familiar they are! and yet how long ago her first acquaintance with them seems! She is nearing him. Will his first glance reveal that she has been officious? that her visit adds one more nail to his wearisome martyrdom? The answer comes carried by lightning. He has dragged himself up into the forbidden attitude--at least it was forbidden five days ago; but five days is an enormous period of time--an absurdly evident joy in his caverned eyes. It cannot be more absurd than the blind elation that the recognition of that joy evokes in her. It is with relief that, when words come to her, she hears them to be temperate and rational. “I am afraid that you were asleep, and that I woke you!’ “I never was wider awake in my life.” His voice is stronger than it was on Monday; and Lavinia realizes that Nature has been more potent than even Féodorovna; and that he has made a perceptible step towards recovery since their last meeting. “Are you sure that you are up to seeing me?” “As sure as that I see you.”