She waited till the door was shut, and then descending, met Simmons, who told her Mr. Elliot had called, and had asked for her. "Is papa in?" she said. "He went out five minutes ago." So Nellie went in, trying to be calm. Wilmot Elliot came forward, and took her hand, and looked in her face; and Nellie looked up in his in silence. "I am so dreadfully sorry," he said, speaking in a hushed and altered tone from any she had ever heard from him. She was going to answer, but her lips quivered, and she hastily turned away, and sat down with her face averted. "I longed to come, if I might be permitted to try to comfort you or help you; but yet I feared to intrude on you, and so I stayed away, Miss Arundel." "Oh, no!" said Nellie. "But you will believe I have not forgotten you?" "I am sure of that, thank you," she answered low. "Could you bear to tell me a little about it?" "Would you care to hear?" "Indeed I should; I have felt so sorrowful for you all this time." Nellie glanced up gratefully, but found it very difficult to open afresh the wounds which were so slightly healed. She could not begin yet. "I hear that Hope is getting better," she said. "At last; she was very ill after you left." "I feared she was going to be, and I was so sorry I could not stay to nurse her." "She was very sorry to lose you; but our grief at all you came home to, seemed to put poor Hope's illness quite in the background." "What was the matter? I have never heard." "It was almost rheumatic fever; but I am glad to say she escaped it. But she is so happy, Miss Arundel." "I am very glad to hear that," answered Nellie. "And so am I. If for nothing else, I shall ever thank you for that." He sat on talking for about half-an-hour; and Nellie told him the sad story, feeling comforted by his sympathy. The time flew by quickly, and just as he was rising to go, Dr. Arundel came in. Wilmot did not, however, remain long, as he feared to intrude on the bereaved family; and soon Nellie was free to go upstairs to see how Ada was, and find Christina. "Why did you not come down, dear?" she asked, bending over her future sister, and giving her a kiss. "I did not know he was here till just now, and anyhow I should not have come." "Why not?" "He would not know me, and I think you would get on better alone this first visit." "Yes, it was very sad; so different from the pleasant call I thought he would make when he would come to see dear mamma." Nellie's eyes filled with tears at the thought, and Christina stood by her with a hand on her shoulder, looking out into the twilight of the square. That night, when Nellie knew Christina and Ada were fast asleep, she tried to set her thoughts in order. How was it that things looked less unutterably sad than they had done two or three hours ago? What difference was there? A few kind words, a little sympathy, a short friendly call.