"Hear her," said the Doctor. "She says she will be good with me. Perhaps, after all, Maria, I _can_ manage my own children better than any one else can." "Daisy is not your child--you had better give her to me." "I can't part with Flower; she is an excellent reader. I am a blind man, but she scarcely allows me to miss my eyes." Flower gave a low ecstatic sob. "And you will allow her to part with valuable gems like this?" "Thanks to you, Maria, she has recovered her diamond." "Andrew, I never met such an obstinate, such a misguided man! Are you really going to bring up these unfortunate children without a chaperon?" "I think you must allow us to be good _and_ naughty in our own way." "Father is looking very tired, Aunt Maria," here whispered Polly. "My dear, _I_ am never going to fatigue him more. Andrew, I wash my hands of your affairs. Daisy, take your diamond. At least, my little precious dog, I have recovered _you_. We return to Bath by the next train." CHAPTER XIX. ONE YEAR AFTER. "Helen, here's a letter." "Yes. Who is it for?" "I think it's for us all. See: 'the Misses Maybright and Miss Dalrymple.'" "Well, where's Flower? We can't open it till Flower comes down. It must be--yes, it must be about father! You know it was yesterday his eyes were to be operated on." "As if I didn't know it, Nell! I never closed my eyes last night. I felt nearly as bad as that awful day a year ago now. I wish I might tear open this envelope. Where is Flower? Need we wait for her?" "It would be unkind not to wait! No one feels about father as Flower does." "David, please call her this instant!" David flew out of the room, and Polly began to finger the precious letter. "It's thick," she said; "but I don't think there's much writing inside. Yes," she continued, "Flower is certainly very sensitive about father. She's a dear girl. All the same, I'm sometimes jealous of her." "Oh, dear Polly! why?" "Father thinks so much of her. Yes, I know it's wrong, but I do feel a little sore now and then. Not often though, and never when I look into Flower's lovely eyes." "She is very sweet with father," said Helen. "It seems to me that during this past year she has given up her very life to him. And did you ever hear any one read better?" "No, that's one of the reasons why I'm devoured with jealousy. Don't talk to me about it, it's an enemy I haven't yet learnt to overcome. Ah! here she comes." "_And_ Fly, _and_ the twins!" echoed Helen. "Here's a letter from father, Flower. At least, we think so. It's directed to us and to you." A tall, very fair girl, with soft, shining eyes, and a wonderful mane of yellow hair came up and put her arm round Polly's neck. She did not smile, her face was grave, her voice shook a little. "Open the letter, Helen," she exclaimed impatiently. "Don't tremble so, Flower," said Polly.