Queenie was terribly restless during the next few days. While the important negotiation was impending she held aloof as much as possible from her friends at Church-Stile House. She could scarcely look Garth in the face when she met him in the village, so heavily did her secret weigh upon her. She had been once to see Langley, and had sat with her some time; but their talk had languished, and at last degenerated into silence. Langley had been too sad and heavy-hearted to make any pretence of cheerfulness, and Queenie had been so oppressed with secret consciousness that she had failed in outward manifestations of sympathy. "If talk would only mend matters you would have no reason to complain of my silence," Langley said, by way of excuse for her downheartedness, when Queenie rose to take leave. "One cannot always talk; I wish I were only as patient as you," had been Queenie's reply. But she breathed more freely when she had crossed the little bridge and was walking down the lane in the grey, waning light. But Cathy came to the cottage, and was so low-spirited, and drew such dismal pictures of the future, that Emmie, who was weakly and tender-hearted, burst out crying, and for a long time refused to be comforted. "Oh, Queen, if we were but rich!" sobbed the poor child, "how nice it would be to help them. I can't bear to think of Langley and Cathy working as you used to work at Granite Lodge, and being hungry and cold and miserable. Cathy might come and live here, there is plenty of room." "Yes, yes, my sweet," returned Cathy, drying her eyes and kissing her hurriedly, "I will promise to come to you if I am starving; but I am going to nurse the sick people in the great London Hospital, you know, and nurses are sure to get plenty to eat," and the warm-hearted girl changed the subject, and began a ludicrous narration of Ted's sayings and doings during the last few days. But Emmie could not forget her friends' troubles; she brooded over them silently, and at last made a little pilgrimage on her own account. Garth, sitting moody and listless in his study, was surprised by a feeble tap, and then by the entrance of the child in her little scarlet hood. "Why, Emmie, my dear," he said kindly, "has your sister brought you over to see us? surely you have not come alone this cold evening." "Queenie and Cathy are talking so busily that they will not miss me; they think I am with Patience. I did not mind the cold a bit; I came all by myself, because I wanted to see you, Mr. Garth." "To see me!" in a surprised tone, for, in spite of their friendship, Emmie had never before distinguished him in this way; her visits had always been to Langley. "Well, I am highly honored, and must make much of my visitor. Will this thing untie?" touching the red hood. But Emmie took no notice of his question; she stood beside him with her large blue eyes fixed gravely on his face, and then she put up her hand and stroked his cheek, but very gently and timidly.