"It's taken!" she cried--"Number Three is taken! It has been empty for a year, and I have simply longed for someone to come, for it is the most convenient house to watch, and I take such interest in the neighbours. It's pretty lonely for me here, for I haven't a single girl-friend. Father kept me at school in Brussels for the sake of learning the language, but almost all the girls were French or American, and none of them live in London. Aunt Margaret introduced me to some `young friends' when I first arrived, but I thought they were horrid prigs, and I suppose they thought I was mad, so the friendship didn't progress. I amuse myself with my music and in dreaming of the time when father comes home, but every time a house changes hands I have a wild hope that there will be a girl in the family, who would be lively and jolly like myself. I'm very nice when I'm well, Whitey--I am really! You needn't laugh like that. I daresay you would be fractious yourself if you had to lie in bed for months and months, and had an old griffin to mount guard over you, who made you eat against your will, and bullied you from morning till night... What was I talking about last? Oh yes, I wanted to ask if you had seen anything of these new people, and what they were like." "I haven't had much time for looking out of the window, but I have seen a young lady and gentleman going out and in. I think they are a newly- married couple, for they look very juvenile and affectionate. He is dark and handsome, and she is fair, and I should say very pretty." Sylvia's face clouded with disappointment. "Bother the husband! She won't want me or anyone else to interrupt the duet. I do wish it could have been a family with a daughter. The curtains don't look newly-married, Whitey!" "No, they don't. I thought that myself. The house doesn't look as smart and fresh as one expects under the circumstances, but perhaps they are not well off, and had to be content with what they could get. You should not leap to the conclusion that she won't want you. Brides often feel very lonely through the day when their husbands are in the city, and I should think she would be delighted to have a friend of her own age so near at hand. We will watch and see if we can get a glimpse of her. She is almost sure to have gone out for a walk this fine morning, and if so she will come home in time for lunch." From that moment Sylvia's eyes were glued to the window, and every woman between the ages of sixteen and sixty was in turn heralded as the bride, and scornfully laughed aside by the nurse. "I told you that she was young and pretty!" she repeated laughingly. "I didn't mean that she was a schoolgirl, or a middle-aged woman. If she is coming at all she will be here within the next half-hour, so lie still and rest, and I'll play Sister Anne for you."