That morning when Waveney made her little speech about a peck of March dust, she found a delightful surprise awaiting her at Cleveland Terrace. Her father was not at home. She knew well it was his day at Norwood, so she went hastily past the studio door without peeping in as usual; but the next moment she saw Nurse Helena on the threshold beckoning her. "Will you come in here for a minute, Miss Ward?" she said, rather mysteriously. And Waveney, with some surprise, retraced her steps, and then, as she followed her in, a little cry of delight broke from her, for there was Mollie pillowed up cosily on the old couch, and smiling at her in the most triumphant way. "Oh, you darling!" exclaimed Waveney, in perfect ecstasy at the sight. "Do you mean that you have actually walked downstairs?" "Yes, and all by myself, too," returned Mollie, proudly. "But do you know, Wave, I have been grumbling dreadfully. 'Grumps' is not a bit comfortable;" and she pinched the old moreen cushions rather pettishly. "But Nurse Helena promises that I shall have my lovely new couch down to-morrow. It will stand quite well in that corner between the window and fireplace, and I shall be able to see any one who comes to the gate. It is so stupid only to lie and look at the fire." "Of course it is, you poor dear; but you will soon be watching the waves breaking on the beach, so cheer up, sweetheart." But it was evident that Mollie was not listening. Something else was occupying her thoughts. Her fingers played absently with Waveney's curly hair as she knelt beside her. Then she drew a note from under her pillow. "Nurse Helena brought me this on my breakfast-tray," she said, flushing a little as she spoke; "but I have not answered it yet. I want you to tell me what I ought to do." Then Waveney, who had recognized Ingram's handwriting, read it somewhat eagerly. "MY DEAR MISS MOLLIE," was all it said--"Do you think you are well enough to see an old friend? I need not tell you what pleasure it will give me if you will allow me to come. You shall choose your own day and hour--any time from cockcrow to midnight will be equally convenient to "Yours most sincerely," "MONSIEUR BLACKIE." "Short and sweet," observed Waveney, smiling at the superscription; but Mollie was in no mood for trifling. "What am I to say?" she asked, anxiously, and her eyes looked bright with excitement. "My darling, that is for you to decide. Are you sure that you are quite strong enough to see Mr. Ingram? Shall we ask Nurse Helena what she thinks about it?" "I have asked her," replied Mollie. "And she said that if I did not stay up too long, or tire myself with talking, that probably I should be well enough to see a visitor, the day after to-morrow." "Well, dear, shall I write and tell him so? Shall I ask him to come in the morning, or the afternoon?"