In rapid attacks of illness, like that which Harriet suffered from, there is, fortunately, no very long interval of suspense for those interested in the patient. The next day she was much better, and the day after was able to sit up by her dressing-room fire, and talk and laugh pretty much as usual. "Oh! by the way," said Harriet, interrupting a lively discussion upon some trifling subject, "did Mr. Gage ever condescend to enquire after me while I was ill?" Margaret had rather feared this question, but she was obliged to reply that he had not. Harriet seemed more disturbed by this proof of his indifference than Margaret had ever before seen her. After a pause she said: "Did he seem--" then, suddenly interrupting herself, she exclaimed, "Pshaw! I will not stoop to enquire what he seemed. Perhaps," she added, after another pause, "I had no reason to expect anything else from him." "I thought it very unkind," said Margaret. Harriet nodded her head in acquiescence, and remained silently gazing into the fire. Once or twice she felt for her handkerchief, and drew it hastily across her eyes as if she did not wish to be observed. "The fire makes one's eyes weak," she said at last. Margaret agreed to it. "Oh! by the way, how do you get on with Mr. Humphries?" said Harriet, rousing herself. "He was always very considerate," said Margaret, "and extremely sorry for your illness." "He is a good soul," said Harriet, "You had better think twice, before you throw him away." "I do not throw him away," said Margaret smiling; "but I confess I have no desire to captivate him." "He would make a very good husband, ma mie." "I dare say," replied Margaret, "but it is all very much out of my way." "Why you cannot mean to be single for ever," said Harriet. "I assure you I often think who I shall entrap, now that George won't have me." "Whose fault is that?" asked Margaret. "I detest him--I hate him from my heart!" exclaimed Harriet. "I would accept Mr. Humphries, to-morrow, or Sir Hawarth Fane, with all the readiness in the world. How dare he remain in this house, when I ordered him to leave it?" "I told you what he said," replied Margaret. "Is not Charlotte very late with my tea?" asked Harriet, in her usual manner. "I think it is rather past the time," replied Margaret. "The girl grows more careless every day," said Harriet. "I hope George does not make love to her." "Oh! Harriet--impossible! a gentleman--" "Why my dear," said Harriet drily, "such things have been done once or twice--it is a very wicked world; she has some nonsense in her head, I am sure, for she marked a whole set of handkerchiefs wrong for me the other day." At this moment Charlotte came in with the tea-things, Harriet leaned over the tray, and surveyed the cups. "Charlotte!" she exclaimed, "where is the cream jug?" "Oh, dear, Miss Conway! I forgot it. I will bring it up in a minute." "Charlotte!" exclaimed Harriet, with a tragic frown, "you are in love."