"O yes. He is only gone out to get something for supper. It is all right," said Lettice, a brighter smile flashing over her face than Wallace had ever seen there, though her reddened eyes and pallid cheeks had at the first moment sent a shock through him. He would not have expected to care so much; but, as of old, he never could endure to see anything slight or weak in suffering. "I am afraid you are awfully tired," he said. "Yes, I think I am—perhaps," assented Lettice, with another flash of a smile. She went back to the corner of the sofa, and dropped her head down on the arm. "I hardly know how to sit up. But that's nothing—it only means going to bed. Please tell Prue I'm happier than I have ever been in my life. I am to live with Felix altogether,—not to go back to Bristol at all." "That is good news indeed, if—" hesitated Wallace. "There isn't any 'if'—there isn't, indeed. Felix is so good! What makes you look at me like that? Are my eyes red?" "Well, just a little; and I thought—" "I couldn't help crying. It wasn't Felix, only I have been so wretched, and now it is all changed. Don't worry Prue, because everything is right. Indeed it is." "I'll be sure to tell her. She will see you, of course, to-morrow, while your brother is away. I was to ask if you would spend the morning with us,—at least with them. I shall be in the City, I'm afraid." "Should I not be in their way? But I'll come round, and I shall soon see. Do tell me now about your house. Have any more chimneys fallen? Is nobody hurt?" Nobody, Wallace assured her: and the furniture had nearly all been carried out by this time to a neighbouring warehouse. All, except what had been destroyed; and the amount thus lost was considerable. Whether any further collapse would take place remained to be seen; but since the wind had gone down, it was less likely. "Things are bad enough without that," Wallace said. "The house can't be habitable for weeks, I suppose." "And the expense—" "Doesn't do to think of that yet!" responded Wallace. It was hardly to be expected that Felix should go through no after-regrets on the score of his new resolve. His was not, indeed, a nature to fluctuate feebly to and fro over a determination once arrived at. If Felix made up his mind on a point, no matter how rapidly, he would carry out at all costs the programme laid down; and having given his word he would stick to it. He had plenty of faults, but neither fickleness of purpose, nor lack of honourable feeling, had a place among them.