Meg sat by her open window waiting for the breakfast gong to sound, with eyes that feasted passionately on the garden below. Now that there had come a chance of her losing it, Friars Court and its occupants had become doubly precious. Sheila's love had disappointed her; but her own love for Sheila had grown rather than diminished, and she would not for the world have displeased her benefactor. But though the girl came to this decision, she did not hide from herself that her action had been despicable, or imagine that Jem would ever forgive it; neither could she endure to think of his radiant smile being quenched. She tried to forget all that. The garden was bathed in sunshine; the hum of the bees as they fluttered among the flowers reached her ears, and the scent of the roses that climbed around her window was wafted in upon her. She had never quite realized how sweet the place was till this morning, nor how deeply seated in her heart was her affection for it. No, she could not leave! It would kill her. She was thankful to remember that in obeying her own wishes she would be pleasing the one to whom she owed all she possessed. The gong sounded, and Meg made her way to the breakfast room with a beating heart, as she knew she deserved Sheila's displeasure. She had of course spoilt the concert to which her friend had been looking forward, and possibly had debarred herself from ever again helping her by her voice. Besides, Sheila had constantly told her that self-control was absolutely necessary to exhibit in the society among which she now found herself, and what must she think of her now that she had so completely forgotten the admonition in the presence of the many guests. Sheila was reading letters by the window: she barely noticed Meg except to say good-morning coldly. But the girl did not resent this, nor was she surprised. This had for long been her friend's way of showing her disapproval. Meg felt she deserved it, and took her seat at the table opposite Miss Gregson feeling in disgrace. She was somewhat cheered by the latter's kind smile. Miss Gregson had knocked at her door the night before, meaning to give her a word of sympathy; but Meg was in bed and as she supposed asleep. The girl had recognised the footstep but had felt too depressed and weary to make any effort, so had not opened her eyes. Now however she was grateful for the smile she received across the breakfast table. Meg did not know that her kind friend's heart was yearning over her. For Miss Gregson felt quite sure of the result of yesterday's action, and that Sheila was probably planning to get rid of Meg.