The next morning, as early as he could well hope to be admitted, Mr. Haveloc made his way to Mrs. Fitzpatrick's, carrying with him a cluster of beautiful passion flowers. As he came up to the porch, a gentleman was mounting his horse to ride away, who looked like a medical man, and was, in fact, no other than Mr. Lindsay. The good doctor cast a keen glance at Mr. Haveloc as he passed him, accompanied by a slight shake of the head, which might be supposed to mean, that if he came there as a suitor, his errand was in vain. Mr. Haveloc not putting this interpretation upon the gesture, simply feared that Miss Fitzpatrick might be worse, rang the bell, was admitted, and entered. Aveline was lying on the sofa, drawing upon a small stand placed on the table by her side. She extended her hand over the top of the stand to Mr. Haveloc, and assured him playfully that she had kept her word, and had told Mr. Lindsay no tales of her gay doings yesterday. Mrs. Fitzpatrick shook hands with him in silence. He went round to look at Aveline's drawing. "Beautiful! Miss Fitzpatrick," he exclaimed; "how many strides have you made in art since you crossed the Alps?" "Do you think so? Not so many," said Aveline, laying down her brush. "There is something wrong in the colouring of my sky. But those passion flowers; how splendid! Does your villa produce such treasures as these?" "Will you come and see?" he said. "I do not know what Mrs. Fitzpatrick will say to my trying to entice you out again; but if you have really recovered your fatigue--" "Perfectly," said Aveline; "in fact, I enjoyed myself so much that it quite counterbalanced the finale of the expedition." "What do you say to it, Mrs. Fitzpatrick?" asked Mr. Haveloc, looking through his glass at Aveline's drawing. "A little indigo, I think, would set that sky all to rights." "Do it for me," said Aveline, offering him a brush. "It is a serious consideration," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick, trying to appear cheerful. "It will all wash off," said Mr. Haveloc, still going on with the sky. "I meant the visit to your villa," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick. "Oh! Miss Fitzpatrick, you have no idea what a singular little animal the owner of my fishing cottage has entailed upon me," said Mr. Haveloc. "I really think I shall buy him, and take him away with me. A Norwegian poney, as sagacious as a dog, and covered with long hair, that I can only compare to ragged tufts of grass." "I want to see it," said Aveline. She had been so used to have every wish gratified by her mother, that without being at all selfish, she almost took it for granted that every fancy she formed should be immediately fulfilled. Mr. Haveloc was much amused by her manner. "You shall see him whenever you please," he said. "Suppose I bring him here to-morrow, and you ride him to the fishing cottage." "Oh, mamma! that would be nice," said Aveline.