In her letters to Mollie, she had called it "her green parlour." She would have rested there for a few minutes, but she saw it was occupied by a gentleman, so she walked on slowly. The next moment, however, she heard her name pronounced, and Thorold Chaytor stood beside her. "You are tired. You wanted to sit down," he said, abruptly, as they shook hands. "Please come back and rest a moment. It is so warm and sheltered in the hollow." "I was not really tired," returned Waveney, nervously; but she avoided looking at him as she spoke. "It is rather a favourite seat of mine, and the view is so pretty." "Yes, I was admiring it just now," replied Thorold; "but you will sit down for five minutes, will you not?" Then Waveney, shy and confused, accompanied him a little reluctantly across the grass. But as Thorold walked silently beside her, under his quiet manner there raged a perfect tempest of conflicting feelings. His sudden and unexpected appearance had taken Waveney by surprise, and her startled blush, and confusion, betrayed her agitation at the meeting. Her new timidity, the faltering of her voice, and her avoidance of his eyes, all told the same tale to Thorold: she had understood, and she was not indifferent to him! A spasm of joy shot through Thorold's heart at this thought; then he remembered his resolution, and crushed down his rising happiness. "I must think of her, and not of myself," he said to himself, as he took the seat beside her. "I am glad to see you are so much better," he began, after a long pause, that neither knew how to break. "But you are not quite strong yet; your step has lost its old spring." Then he interrupted himself, as though he feared to say so much. "But all that will pass." "Yes, it will pass," she returned, trying to speak naturally, and looking at him for the first time. The soft brilliancy of her eyes almost dazzled Thorold. He nearly forgot his resolution, as he looked into their brown depths. "Do you know, Mr. Chaytor, that on Thursday I am actually to see my Mollie. I am counting the hours, and so is she." "And that makes you very happy?" he asked, in a low voice. "Oh, yes; so grateful and happy! Father has seen her, of course; and he says I must be prepared to find her very weak. Is it not a pity she has lost her lovely colour? But Nurse Helena says it will come back. She seems such a kind woman. When I send little notes to Mollie, she answers them so nicely, and gives all Mollie's messages." Waveney had forgotten her nervousness in this engrossing topic; but Thorold's answer was a little vague. "And you will never be faithless again?" "No!" she returned, flushing at this; "I will try to be more trustful in future." And then, more kindly, "Mr. Chaytor, you were so good to me that miserable evening, I have so often wished to thank you, and tell you that I am not unmindful of your great kindness." Then he checked her.