"I'm not saying anything against it," said Jean, coolly, "but you cannot go till you have seen my lady, and you cannot see her till a reasonable hour. She is going too, and she is going on your account, and you owe her that much. See," she continued, looking at Grace, who was knocked up and ill now from the agitation and want of sleep. "Your sister is ill--go back to bed, my bairns," she said, "and I'll bring you something by-and-bye, and you must see Mrs. Dorriman before you go away--before you make any plans." Grace was too glad to lie down, never very strong; she was suffering now, and Margaret, vexed at heart, saw that Jean was right. Grace ill, it would be cruel to make her move,--cruel, if not impossible. She was herself too much excited to go back to bed. She went on when Jean left the room, arranging her things in the open boxes, moving quietly, as Grace, worn out with her crying and the emotions of the morning, sank into sleep. As Margaret watched her, and noticed the swelled eyelids and look of unhappiness, she blamed herself for not having thought of her grief and sorrow before. Nothing she thought then would be too hard for her, no sacrifice too great for her to make on her behalf. She knelt down beside her sleeping sister and offered up her innocent and earnest morning prayer, and she went on making quite a solemn vow to make her happiness her chief object in life, never to think of herself, but to put Grace before her always. She rose comforted, as we receive comfort from a great resolve--the decision seems to bring its own strength with it. Turning to the window she saw that the day was more hopeless than ever; rain in the country pattering on the green leaves brings with it a refreshing and not altogether a melancholy sound; the effect of a heavy rain is to wash the grass into brilliancy, and leave glittering traces for the first sun-rays to turn into beautiful prismatic effects; but rain in the outskirts of a town where every pathway is of coal-dust and the mud is black from the same cause--when the rain brings down with it dirt and blacks and insoluble portions of the grimy smoke--is a dreary and wretched thing. Only those who do not live in their surroundings, whose imagination lifts them up and beyond these influences, or are too busy to heed them, are not weighed down by them. She was startled to see a cab coming up to the house. She looked out, and with indescribable feelings in which relief was uppermost she saw Mr. Sandford and some luggage drive off towards the station. It was breakfast time, and just as she was turning to go downstairs, and went to see if Grace was still sleeping, Mrs. Dorriman came to the door and Grace started up.