"We will make it up to her, my darling, by devotion now," cried her husband, kissing away her tears; then they hastened to the bedside of Liane, for she could not be moved yet from her humble abode. After several days of unconsciousness she began to improve, and in a week was able to have the truth carefully broken to her by her own mother, who with Sophie Nutter shared the task of nursing her back to health. Doctor Jay was sent for to assist with his medical skill, and great was his joy to find her restored to her own, and so beautiful and worthy, in spite of the rearing she had had from brutal granny, the miserable old hag, who was so crushed by the contempt and scorn of every one that she sought consolation in the bottle and drank herself to death in a week, expiring miserably in a hospital. As soon as Liane was well enough to see a visitor Mrs. Carrington called. "Do you remember me, my dear?" she asked, and Liane murmured: "I sold you gloves." "Yes, and fascinated me at the same time. I have been in love with you ever since." Lyde wondered at the sudden blush on the girl's cheek as Liane thought within herself that she would be glad if Lyde's brother only loved her also. As for him, of course, she did not see him till she left her room, but flowers came for her every day--great red roses, breathing the language of love--and on the day before they went to Cliffdene, her devoted mamma said: "Dear, if you feel well enough, I should like you to send a kind little note to Jesse Devereaux, thanking him for the flowers he has been sending every day." "I will write," Liane replied, with a blush and a quickened heartbeat, and her fond mother added: "Jesse is a fine young man, and admires you very much." When he received the note, so neatly and gracefully written, without a mistake in wording or spelling, Devereaux was puzzled. It was certainly not like the writing of the letter in which she had rejected him. He concluded that her mother or her maid Sophie had written it. "Poor girl, she will have to have private instructors to repair the defects in her education," he thought. A few days before Christmas the Clarkes bade a kind farewell to the good-natured Mrs. Brinkley and Lizzie White, and returned to Stonecliff, whither the news had preceded them in letters to friends. Devereaux was at the station to bid them farewell, and by the most open hinting he managed to secure from Mrs. Clarke an invitation to spend Christmas with them at Cliffdene. He arrived on Christmas morning, and was presently shown into the holly-wreathed library, where Liane was sitting alone, exquisitely gowned in dark-blue silk, from which her fair face arose like a beautiful lily. Devereaux's greeting was joyous, but Liane was cold and constrained. She could not forget how he had snubbed her in Boston when she was only a poor working girl. But they had not exchanged a dozen words before they were interrupted by the unexpected entrance of Dolly Dorr.