"I am sorry," said that poor woman, who did not wish to hurt her. "I was not thinking of you, I was thinking of Margaret." "Every one is always thinking of Margaret," went on Grace, in a fretful tone. "It is the most extraordinary thing, it is always the same thing--it is always Margaret." "Rest now, and we can talk by-and-by," said Mrs. Dorriman. "I have much to do; and about you, Grace, have you any plans?" "Have I any plans?" asked Grace, opening her eyes in deepest astonishment. "Why, as soon as I can move, of course, I am to go to live with Margaret--a lovely villa with trees and things, close to London!" "Oh, then that is settled," said Mrs. Dorriman, very much relieved. "I did not know; it will be nice for you to be together." "Yes, it will be nice," said Grace, excitedly. "If you knew how I long to go away and see the world." "Poor child!" "Now, Mrs. Dorriman, there you are as doleful as you can be again. I wish you would not----" "Would not do what?" "Speak as if I were never to be well again," and Grace, feeble and weak, burst into a violent flood of tears. "I was not thinking of _that_," said Mrs. Dorriman, hastily, "but life is disappointing, and if you cling to the world too much you will feel the many disappointments overwhelmingly." "Wait till you see," said Grace, hastily brushing her tears away. Mrs. Dorriman left her; she had not the courage to tell her her own conviction that Mr. Drayton might be kind to her in the matter of money, but as to her living with him and with Margaret, making it in short her home, _that_ she thought entirely unlike him to propose. However, she knew nothing really about the matter. What had passed between the sisters, or what arrangements and stipulations she had made with Mr. Drayton, were equally out of her knowledge, and she trusted from Grace's confident manner that she had something tangible to go upon. In the meantime Mr. Sandford urged his sister's return, and the doctor was anxious to get Grace to a more congenial climate. She had certainly been better and brighter lately, and he hoped, if she went somewhere in time, she might yet get well. Mrs. Munro was extremely offended by his way of disparaging the climate. "What ails you that you are for aye backbiting our climate. If water goes up it's bound to come down somewhere." "But it is all coming down here just now," he said, laughing, "and it is very damp. It is all very well for you and me, Mrs. Munro, we are both strong and healthy, but that poor young lady will never get well unless we can get her away." "I don't know about damp," she said. "With a good house over one's head (and this is a good house), and fires, what does the weather outside matter? It's just fidgets, doctor, and nothing else."