She gazed admiringly at a small, delicate white rose as she spoke; it looked so desolate without its setting of green leaves. A curious fancy seized her--was not her life like this poor flower’s, separated from all she loved? “She is thinking of her grief,” thought the invalid girl. “You are too tender, darling,” she said, gently; “flowers are sent for our use; and, after all, we die as they do.” She paused a little, and then went on, “I will tell you where to put those, if you will. Nugent loves flowers as we do. Ask Morgan to give you some glasses, and arrange them on his table, will you?” “Of course! Why did I not think of this before?” and, gathering them in her hands, Margery went swiftly from the room. Lady Enid lay back very still as she disappeared, a strange yearning look on her face. “If that only might be,” she murmured to herself, “I could go in happiness, I think.” She looked toward the door, and her eyes suddenly gleamed with joy. “Nugent,” she cried, “you have come back! How good of you to be so early!” Lord Court bent and kissed her. “Where is Miss Daw? You are alone.” Lady Enid saw his eager glance. “She has just left me to put some flowers in your room. Oh, Nugent, how sweet they are! I breathe the country air again in their scent.” “As you will breathe it in reality, darling, soon. What does Fothergill say?” “I am progressing slowly,” Lady Enid replied, in a quiet voice, though the flush on her cheeks deepened; “it must be another week yet, Nugent, before I can think of starting.” “A week will soon pass,” the earl responded, tenderly, not noticing her labored manner--“a week, and then, Enid, my darling, we shall return to the home where we were so happy, to the haunts you loved! My life shall henceforth be spent for you and with you, as of old.” Lady Enid put her hand on her brother’s. “You do not dread it?” she whispered. “All dread is gone--it is buried in the past,” he answered, firmly, looking into her eyes. Lady Enid sighed, and Margery entered the room as he released her hand. “You have been putting some flowers in my room, Miss Daw; that is kind of you.” “I did not know you liked flowers, Lord Court,” she answered, with the grave smile that never brought any light to her eyes. “I will remember in future.” “I like all that is beautiful,” he said, involuntarily; then, turning to his sister--“Enid, let us celebrate my return. You have not driven out for weeks. Can you bear the fatigue to-day?” “Yes,” replied Lady Enid, with a gleam of delight. “I shall enjoy it.” “It is a lovely day,” went on the earl. “I long to drag you from this gloomy room; a drive will do you good, I am sure.” “Yes, I know it will.” Margery knelt for an instant beside the couch. “Are you quite sure?” she whispered. “Will Dr. Fothergill----” “He has urged me to go many times,” Lady Enid interrupted, kissing her; “so run and put on your hat.”