“And the summer is before Guy too,” said Miss Adene. “He will make great strides, you will see.” “Yes, I think so truly; but there is one thing that lies before us—all the doctors say that he must not try another winter in England just yet. I believe now we should have done better to go away in November, as some of them wished; but Guy did not seem fit to move and dreaded the thought so much; and it seemed impossible, and our own man was against it then. But what they all say now is that, if he could get three summers in succession by going away for next winter, he might entirely regain his health; and, of course, for the sake of that we would do anything in the world!” “Of course! And Guy will probably look forward with pleasure to the thought of the flowers, and sunshine, and blue skies, when he is a little stronger. You know how much I have travelled, and how I enjoy it! I declare I will go with you myself, if you will only ask me, when the time comes!” Lady Dumaresq clasped her hands in a pretty gesture of delight. Her eyes were bright and sparkling. “Oh, Aunt Mary, do you really mean it? That would be just delightful! You would be like a tower of strength to us.” “Only you must go to a nice place,” Miss Adene went on, quite pleased and interested by the idea. “I won’t have the Riviera—I tell you that frankly. I don’t like it, and I never did, and it’s not a climate to take liberties in. Everybody gets chills there.” “Guy has suggested Algiers; he does not care for the Riviera.” “Algiers is better, but it faces north. And you so soon lose the sun behind Mustapha Supérieur in the winter months. Now I should advise Madeira. I was there once in November and December, and you can’t imagine the delicious softness and steady warmth of the climate, and the glorious wealth of flowers. And such nice hotels too, with English proprietors. I shall talk to Guy about Madeira. I always declared I must go there again!” At that moment there was a sound outside, and Lady Dumaresq raised her head with a listening gesture. “There are the two Guys,” she said softly; and the next moment the door was opened and a beautiful little boy of nearly three years old came rushing into the room, making straight for his mother. A little behind him, walking rather slowly with a stick in his hand, came a tall, thin young man, whose pale face and deliberate movements indicated recent illness. Miss Adene rose quickly from her seat and advanced to meet him. “My dear Guy, I am so glad to find you downstairs after all this long time!” He smiled, and bent to kiss her, for he was tall, whilst little Miss Adene was short, though she was slim and elegant both in her dress and figure, and had the air of refinement and breeding which goes so much farther than mere good looks. Indeed, that nameless air of distinction characterised the whole party. It was very marked in Sir Guy himself, and in his beautiful young wife.