"Happy! I should think so! He is so clever--even his masters say so; and then, he never shirks his work like other boys. Oh, do you know, Miss Harford, he has set his heart on getting a scholarship; he is working for his examination now. If he gets it, we hope he will be able to go to Oxford, for he does so want to be a barrister." "But, my dear, eighty pounds a year would not pay his expenses at any university." And then Althea bit her lip as though she had said more than she intended. "Oh, we know that," returned Waveney, eagerly, "but we thought--at least, Noel thought--that perhaps the veiled Prophet----" And then she broke into a laugh. "How absurd I am! As though you could understand! But Noel is always so ridiculous, and gives such funny names to people! The veiled Prophet is that kind friend of mother's who has sent him to St. Paul's." "A friend of your mother's, my dear?" Althea's tone was a little perplexed. "Father always says it is some friend of mother's, but, of course, it is all guess-work. The lawyer, who pays his bills, tells us nothing;" and then, partly to amuse her hearer, and partly because it gave her pleasure to narrate anecdotes of the lad's cleverness and sense of humour, she told her how Noel intended one day to go to Lincoln's Inn and interview the old lawyer. And there was something so racy in the girl's manner, and she imitated Noel's voice so well, that Althea, who had been trying to suppress her amusement for some minutes, gave up the effort, and broke into a hearty laugh. "My dear, you have done me good," she said, when they were serious again, "and my evening, thanks to you, has passed very pleasantly. But I am going to send you away now, as I must not talk any more." And then, as Waveney rose from her chair at this dismissal, she drew her gently towards her, and kissed her cheek. "I am your friend; remember that, Waveney," she said, in her quiet voice, and the girl blushed with surprise and pleasure. The next morning Waveney was summoned to the library. She found Althea looking pale and weak, but she had discarded her shade. She was resting in a deep, easy-chair, and her lap was full of letters. Waveney found that her work was cut out for her, and for more than an hour she was busily engaged in writing the answers dictated to her. One was to Mrs. Wainwaring, and Waveney felt great pleasure in writing it. She had not forgotten Fairy Magnificent. She had taken a fancy to the pretty old lady, and longed to see her again. When Althea had finished her correspondence, she put a volume of "Robert Browning's Life" into the girl's hand. "I must not use my eyes to-day," she said, with a sigh, "so if you will be good enough to read to me, I will finish my jersey. Knitting and crochet are my only amusements on my blind days. We work for the Seamen's Mission." And then she added, brightly, "It is such a luxury having some one to read to me. We shall get through so many nice books, you and I."