“You two girls go without me; three are too many at one time,” Tom said, motioning Rena toward the door, while she held back and made Irene go first. Rex was sitting up in his invalid chair, as he did now a part of every day, and his face flushed when Irene appeared and came toward him. He was paler and thinner than she had expected to find him, and the pity she felt was genuine as were the tears which came to the eyes which recalled to Rex’s mind the one which had troubled him so much. It was looking at him now with so much sympathy that he was moved a little and he smiled up at her as he gave her his hand which she kept and smoothed as she said: “O, Mr. Travers! I was so sorry to hear of your illness and wished I might do something for you, but I could not come.” “You are very kind,” he replied, “and I was sorry for you when I heard of your little brother’s death. I hope you are well. You are looking so.” Nothing could have been more formal than his words and manner, and Irene felt it and saw the difference when he turned to Rena, asking why she had stayed away so long and saying to Irene: “You don’t know what a capital nurse your cousin is. I believe she did more to pull me through than Miss Bennett or the doctor.” Rena’s face was crimson as she protested that she had done little, but Irene detected something in her and Rex both which she could not define and which made her uneasy. But she would not give up yet and she must speak to him of the deception in which she had taken part. She would rather have been alone with him, but Rena was there and she heard Tom’s voice in the hall and knew he might come in at any moment. “Mr. Travers,” she began, “Rena has told you of our foolishness in which I played a part.” She would like to have said unwilling part, but Rena’s presence prevented her, and she went on: “I told you how sorry I was, in my note which you received?” “Yes, but I was too ill to answer it. There is nothing to forgive,” he said. “It is all past and gone and made square. Let us forget it.” Just then Tom entered the room, saying Miss Bennett’s orders were that Rex must not talk any longer. “I hope I have not tired you, have I?” Irene replied, turning upon Rex a look so full of entreaty for some sign that the old relations between them were not entirely ended that he could not misunderstand her. Neither could he answer her as she wished, and he only said: “Miss Bennett knows how weak I am still and keeps close watch lest I get too tired. Perhaps you will come again. Do you stop long?”