Things went on the next few days as they had begun. Rupert scarcely ever came near, and when he did, if Mr. Russell was by, I felt ashamed again of his plain face and awkward ways. And I liked to know that Mr. Russell admired me. Mrs. Hammond told me one day I ought to marry a gentleman; and it pleased me to hear her say it, even though I guessed she meant Mr. Russell—and I knew he wasn't a real gentleman. Mother was very busy with Miss Russell. It didn't seem as if she could know much of what was going on outside the sick-room, she was so much shut up in it. I never could be sure, though. Mother had such sharp eyes; she seemed able to see through anything. Her not speaking meant nothing, for she wasn't a sieve, like many women, always letting everything in her mind run out. If she didn't think the time was come for speaking, she'd wait till it did come. Miss Russell was very ill for several days. She had to keep still, and at first she might not talk. Mother seldom left her. I think those two took to one another at first sight, as people sometimes do. She was wonderfully patient, and never complained. She didn't even seem to be in a hurry to get well. I used to go and sit by her sometimes, and watch her quiet pale face. Often she looked as if she had very happy thoughts; but that wasn't always. One evening, mother had gone for a few minutes into the garden, and I was there instead. Miss Russell was asleep, when all of a sudden she stirred, and put out both hands. "Don't, don't! oh, Walter, don't!" she says, in such a sad voice. I kept still, and didn't speak, only wondering what she meant. "O Walter, don't!" she said again, and then she woke, and her eyes met mine. "I think you were dreaming, weren't you?" I said. "Yes, I was dreaming," she said, and sighed. "Such an uncomfortable dream! I am glad you roused me." I had not roused her, but that did not matter, and I only asked— "What was the dream about?" "You, partly," she said, with a little smile. I was puzzled, thinking how she had called to her brother; but, of course, she did not know me to have heard that. "What about me?" I asked. "Nothing much. A foolish dream," said she. "I hope it will never come true. I only dreamt you were going to make a very unhappy marriage, and I was trying to prevent it." She looked at me earnestly, and said, "Not likely to come true, I think. You have been brought up so well and sensibly. Kitty—" and she stopped— "Kitty, you are a very pretty girl. You can't help knowing it. Don't you marry the first foolish young fellow who is ready to run after you just because of your pretty face. That wouldn't mean being happy." Mother came in and put a stop to the talking. I could see she was not pleased with me for letting Miss Russell say so much. She had heard our voices going, and that brought her back.