Mrs. Dorriman read the letter, and her eyes filled with tears. It was a letter written by one who has lost all the spring of youth--unhappiness was on its every page, and the craving to know that Grace was well and surrounded with comforts, and that she was happy. It was a beseeching cry to know if the step she had taken had been of use to her beloved sister. "Grace," said Mrs. Dorriman, after a moment or two, "when you move, as the doctor hopes, have you money?" "Money! My dear Mrs. Dorriman, what an odd question. I have no money--A few shillings, that is all." "And will Margaret send you some? Will Mr. Drayton pay all your expenses?" "Of course he will, now Margaret has married him. I see what you mean. I had better write to her about it." "Yes, you had better write." Mrs. Dorriman's face flushed. "I wish, my poor child, it had been otherwise, but my brother is still offended with you. I am so very sorry, but he wants me to go home to him." "Does he?" said Grace, indifferently, and Mrs. Dorriman noticed with a pang that this news she had thought necessary to break to the invalid did not affect her at all. "He wants me at once. I do not like leaving you alone here, Grace, without your sister; it will be dull for you and lonely." "It would be, but you see I am going too," said Grace. "If I do not hear from Margaret soon I shall go to London to their house and wait for them there." She spoke so confidently that Mrs. Dorriman was much relieved. With all her compassion there was so little that was congenial to her that she never could be affectionate to Grace, and she herself being of a warm-hearted nature fancied that the girl must miss it in her. She was always trying to like her, and failing. The letter Grace wrote at intervals, and with some difficulty, reached Margaret after some delay. She was on the Rhine at Mayence, tired out with incessant travelling, and most anxious about her sister. She waited impatiently for her husband's return, he had gone out on business. "I have heard from Grace, written after she had walked across the floor by herself. She is able to travel now. When can we get home?" she asked, as he entered the little sitting-room. He laughed a little. "So Miss Grace is able to travel. Where does she intend going to?" he asked blandly. Margaret's face flushed. "She is coming to us--she is to live with us." "This is indeed news," he said, laughing--and how she had grown to hate his laugh! "There are two sides to that statement." "You cannot surely object to my sister coming to pay me a visit." "I am afraid I do object--between such a devoted couple as you and I," he said, with a sneer. "No third person would find it pleasant. I do not intend trying it, at any rate." "You do not mean to say that my own and only sister may not come to me?" said Margaret, her voice faltering. "I do mean it. I married you; I did not marry your sister also. She is not quite in my line, and the sooner you understand it the better."