Her agitation and bewilderment made her prettier and shyer than Miss Rawson had ever seen her. Denzil, as he approached and looked down upon her, felt such an access of emotion as never in all his staid existence had visited him before. This was no barge girl, but a dainty lady, for whose high birth he would have gladly vouched--no young servant injured in cleaning windows, but a princess out of a fairy tale! CHAPTER VII THE FIRST LETTER "I consecrated my life to you from the moment when I first saw you, and I feel a certain pleasure in sacrificing it to you."--_Letters of a Portuguese Nun._ In all his well-conducted life Denzil Vanston had never stood at the bedside of a beautiful young girl. His staid imagination had not foreshadowed anything like this maiden, with her double halo of mystery and suffering. His brother Felix, younger, harder, and more callous, had felt compassion for the child's feminine helplessness, but no perception of her rare charm. Denzil, who never thought about women as a rule, perceived it at once. He perceived also the flickering, wistful look, the varying color with which she marked his entrance. Misunderstanding it altogether--for how could he tell that she had been conscious of that elusive, subtle, indescribable thing which we call family likeness?--he sat down by the bedside with everything that was honest and natural about him thoroughly stirred. He took the invalid's hand and held it in his own, as he said they felt glad to know that she was making a good recovery. Even as he spoke he was conscious of some awkwardness. His aunt, he felt, had made a mistake. This was no charity case, to be visited by anybody who was humane enough to take the trouble--this was a young gentlewoman, whose privacy should be respected. He grew scarlet with the feeling that he ought not to be there. He asked if she were quite content at Aylfleet; if everything was being done for her comfort that could be done. Did she want books, work, games, a kitten?--there were some charming kittens in a basket at Normansgrave. On that the grave lips smiled, and revealed a row of small milky teeth--teeth which Levy had believed to be unique in the profession for which Rona had been destined. Yes, she would like a kitten. She liked books, too. Yes, she liked to be read aloud to. They had often had books read to them in the Convent School. She felt better; they were very kind. There was only one thing--she wanted to see her brother, David Smith. Denzil explained. David had gone to Basingstoke with the barge. They had told him she could not be moved for some days. Complete rest was necessary for the complaint from which she suffered. No doubt she would hear from him soon. Would she tell them how her accident happened?