"Yes," she said. "I was sure you would be pleased to know that I was not nearly so ill as mamma thought me. She was alarmed because I was feverish, but it soon went off. I am quite splendidly well now. This air suits me--doesn't it, Osbert?" "It really seems to," he replied, ready to worship her for calling him so naturally into the conversation. "Motoring, too, agrees with you. I feel very grateful to you, Rosenberg, for giving her some runs down in Sussex, though I wish you could have avoided the drenching." The composed voice and words made Percy feel quite hot, and for a moment they disconcerted Gerald, but he took up his cue almost at once. "I have been afraid to look you in the face, Gaunt," he replied gratefully, "since making such an utter ass of myself. I'm glad to take this chance of apologising; but I don't feel quite so repentant as I did, now that I see Mrs. Gaunt look so well and blooming." Joey chimed in, vowing that the Derbyshire air was doing wonders for Virgie. "If we could get some fine weather, Osbert ought to run you round the Peak," said Virgie to Gerald. Gerald was puzzled. If this were acting it was jolly good. Surely this girl could not be afraid of her husband. He looked from one to the other, completely mystified. Lunch was quite a hilarious meal. Tom and Bill were both present, and Virgie sat between them by special request. She confided various episodes from the career of Little Runt to their willing ears, and the way in which she understood them, and entered into conversation without the least effort, or any departure from her usual naturalness of manner, filled Gaunt with admiration. They behaved so well as to surprise both their parents, seeming quite hypnotised by the spell of the thrilling voice and the dainty nonsense talk with which she plied them. After lunch, while the men stood about smoking a cigarette before starting, baby was brought down, and Joey and Virgie, kneeling on the drawing-room carpet, tried to inveigle her into making a tottering step alone. It was pathetically amusing to watch her little plump body, balanced upon its unsteady supports, her dimpled arms outspread, her baby lips parted in glee, showing the two rows of tiny pearls between. To and fro, to and fro, she wavered, with protecting arms on either hand, not touching, but guarding. Then at last, with a shriek of ecstasy at her own boldness, she ran forward--one step--two--and fell, a triumphant, huddled sweetness, right upon Virgie's breast. The girl knelt up, clasping the rosy thing in her hugging arms, kissing her cheek and praising her courage. "Oh, babs, when you are a big, grown up girl," said she, "some day I will remind you that you took your first step to me."