"After all!" ejaculated Mrs Van Heldre, as she followed them into the room, and then stopped back. "Too many of us at once can't be good, so I must stay down," she added, with a sigh. Crossing to the table where her bird's cage was standing, she completely removed the cover, now displaying a pink and grey ball of feathers upon the perch, her action having been so gentle that the bird's rest was not disturbed. "Poor little prisoner!" she said gently. "There, you may wake up to-morrow morning and pipe and sing in the bright sunshine, for we can bear it now--thank God! we can bear it now." Volume 3, Chapter VIII. THE DISCOVERY. Madelaine rose as the brothers entered the room, and before coming to the bed, where Van Heldre lay rapidly mending now, George Vine took the girl's hands, looked down in her pale face, which sorrow seemed to have refined, and bent down and kissed her. "How are you, Maddy?" said Luke Vine, gruffly; and he was going on to the bed, but Madelaine laid her hand upon his shoulder, leant towards him, and kissed him. "Hah! yes, forgot," he said, brushing her forehead roughly with his grey beard; and then, yielding to a sudden impulse, kissing the girl tenderly. "How I do hate girls!" he muttered to himself, as he went straight to the window and stood there for a few moments. "Poor lad!" he said to himself. "Yes, hopeless, or a girl like that would have redeemed him." He turned back from the window. "Room too hot and stuffy," he said. "Well, how are you, John?" "Getting well fast," replied Van Heldre, shaking hands. "Splendid fish that was you sent me to-day; delicious." "Humph! all very fine! Shilling or fifteen-pence out of pocket," grumbled Uncle Luke. "Get out!" said Van Heldre, after a keen look at George Vine. "Poll Perrow wouldn't have given you more than ninepence for a fish like that. It's wholesale, Luke, wholesale." "Ah! you may grin and wink at George," grumbled Uncle Luke, "but times are getting hard." "They are, old fellow, and we shall be having you in the workhouse, if we can't manage to get you to the Victoria Park place." "Here, come away, George," snarled Uncle Luke. "He's better. Beginning to sneer. Temper's getting very bad now, I suppose, my dear?" he added to Madelaine. "Terrible. Leads me a dreadful life, Uncle Luke," she said, putting her arm round Van Heldre's neck to lay her cheek against his brow for a moment or two before turning to leave the room. "Cant and carny," said Uncle Luke. "Don't you believe her, John Van; she'll be coming to you for money to-morrow--bless her," he added _sotto voce_; then aloud, "What now?" For Madelaine had gone behind his chair, and placed her hands upon his shoulders. "It's all waste of breath, Uncle Luke," she said gently. "We found you out a long time ago, Louise and I." "What do you mean?" "All this pretended cynicism. It's a mere disguise." "An ass in the lion's skin, eh?"