But when she had left the room Doreen did not at once resume her book. "I wonder what is troubling her," she said to herself. "I know her expression so well, and with all her little jokes, she is not at ease. I hope that we have not made a grievous mistake in engaging Miss Ward--and yet she seems a nice little thing! But there is a look in Althea's eyes to-night as though she had seen a ghost. When one is no longer young the ghosts will come;" and then Doreen sighed and took up her book. Althea was very tired, but it was mental, not bodily fatigue, that had brought the dark shadows under her eyes. But it was not her habit to spare herself, or to shunt her duties. So, instead of going straight to her room, she turned down the passage that led to the two little chambers where their humbler guests slept, and sat for a few minutes beside Laura Cairns' bed. The girl slept badly, and Althea's sympathetic nature guessed intuitively how a few cheering words would sweeten the long night; and she never missed her evening visit. "It is better to lie awake in the country than in Tottenham Court Roads," she said, presently. Then Laura smiled. "Oh, yes, Miss Harford; it is so heavenly, the peace and silence. But at first it almost startled me. In London the cabs and carts are always passing, and there seems no quiet at all; but here, one can lie and think of the birds in their nests. And how good it is to be free from pain! Oh, I am so much better, and it is all owing to your kindness, and this dear old place!" And here the girl's lips rested for a moment on the kind hand that held hers. "But you will not leave me without my message, Miss Harford?"--for it was one of Althea's habits to give what she called "night thoughts" to the sick girls who came to the Red House. Althea paused a moment. For once she had forgotten it. Then some words of Thomas à Kempis came to her, "Seek not much rest, but much patience," and she repeated them softly. "Will that do, Laura?" "Oh, yes--and thank you so much, Miss Harford. 'Not much rest, but much patience.' I must remember that." "I must remember it, too," thought Althea; and then she went to the Cubby-house to bid her old nurse good-night, and to have a little chat with her. Nurse Marks was loud in her praises of Waveney. "I like her, Miss Althea, my dear," she said, eagerly. "She has pretty manners, and a good heart; dear, dear, just to think of it being Jonadab's young lady. He thinks a deal of her, does Jonadab. She will be a comfort to you, my dearie. But there, you are looking weary, my lamb, and Peachey will be waiting to brush your hair." And Althea was thankful to be dismissed. She sent Peachey away as soon as possible, and then sat down in an easy chair by the window; her eyes were aching, but the darkness rested them. She was a good sleeper generally, but to-night she knew that no wooing of the drowsy god would avail her. Doreen was right, and the ghost of the past had suddenly started up in her path.