"My dear, do you suppose I have had leisure for social engagements? I know nothing about the people, except that their blinds are invariably crooked, and every one drawn up to a different length. Most untidy the house looks! A dear friend of mine used to say--Mary Appleford, whose father was the clergyman in my old home in Leicestershire--charming old man who married Lady Evelyn Bruce--most aristocratic family!--Mary always declared that she could judge a woman's character by the appearance of her windows. Judged from that standpoint, I should not feel disposed to call on the mistress of Number Three." "But you haven't seen her, aunt; if you did, you could not help loving her. She looked so delighted to see me sitting up, and gave me such a delicious smile!" "Smiled at you, do you say? A most unladylike thing to do! The first advances should come from our side, as she would know if she had any experience of society. I hope, my dear, that you were not so foolish as to respond. One cannot be too careful about strangers in this big wicked city. I shall never forget my poor dear cousin telling me how she called on a most superior-looking lady who came to live in the same terrace, and two months later the police raided the house, and it turned out that the husband made false coins in the back kitchen, and the wife circulated them among the tradesfolk. So awkward for Maria!" Sylvia brought her eyebrows together in a frown, and tossed about on her pillow. She felt irritated and disappointed, and that made her head ache, and the headache sent down her spirits again, and eclipsed the brightness of the morning. If Aunt Margaret refused to call, she could not make the acquaintance of the fair unknown, and it would be a tantalising experience to see her every day, and, yet be as far removed from friendship as if they lived a dozen miles apart! During the weeks which followed, nurse and patient kept a close watch on the little house over the road, and were rewarded by witnessing several interesting domestic scenes. On Saturday afternoon, for instance, Edwin came home early to show himself in his turn. He was tall, dark, and handsome; dressed in the height of the fashion, and bore himself with such an air of complacency and benign patronage towards his fellows, that he looked far more like a prince of the blood than an ordinary city man. He carried a little bunch of flowers in his hand, and whistled as he drew near the gate in orthodox, newly-married fashion, and the pretty girl flew to the door, and nodded her head at him in happy welcome. He bent down to kiss her, and she took the flowers and sniffed at them lovingly; then they walked together down the little path to examine the growth of some sooty chrysanthemums and three struggling creepers placed against the house.