Then Thorold shook his head with rather a sad smile. "You must not take such a gloomy view. Let us hope there will be no bad result. I confess Miss Ward's exhausted condition alarmed me at first. It was distressing to see her. And then there was so little one could do!" Thorold's tone had a note of pain in it, but Althea looked at him with an affectionate smile. "Don't undervalue yourself, Thorold. In any emergency or trouble I know of no one who could give more efficient help. So many kind-hearted people spoil everything by their fussiness." "Oh, that is one for Joa!" "No, no, I was not thinking of poor Joa. With all her goodness, she is the last person I should care to have near me in any sudden trouble. Perhaps it is unkind of me to say this, but I know we think alike on this point;" and though Thorold made no verbal response to this, it was evident that he agreed with her. When Waveney woke the next morning, she was conscious of aching limbs and unusual weariness and lassitude, and it was almost with a feeling of relief that she heard Althea say she must remain in bed. "You have been a naughty little child," she said, kissing her, "and Doreen and I are excessively angry with you; so we have agreed that you are to be punished by some hours of solitary confinement. I am going to light your fire, and then you are to eat your breakfast and go to sleep again." Waveney smiled quite happily at this. She had no wish to dispute the point. It was a luxury to lie still in her soft bed and watch the pleasant firelight until her drowsy eyelids closed again. In spite of her weariness and aching limbs, there was a fount of joy in her heart. "Mollie is better. Mollie will get well." Those were the words she repeated over and over again, and more than once her hands were folded, and "Thank God!" came audibly from her lips. At midday Althea brought a note that Moritz had sent by a boy messenger. It was written to her, but there was a message for Waveney. She read part of it aloud. Mollie had slept well, and the improvement continued. Both doctor and nurses seemed satisfied. "If I had my way, Sir Hindley should have a peerage," wrote Moritz. "He is worth all the other doctors put together; and Miss Mollie would never have pulled through without him, I'll take my oath of that." But Althea kept the remainder of the letter to herself. It was too strictly private and confidential even for Doreen's ears. All day long, in her waking intervals, Waveney was keeping one thought at bay. Deep down in her inner consciousness, she was aware of some strange and secret joy which she dare not face, but which seemed to distil some rare and precious aroma.