Somehow Effie seemed a quite secondary and insignificant figure when Sheila was present, though the best seat was given her, and her aunt asked with interest after her well-being. But the girls could not wait to hear Effie discourse upon herself and her symptoms, improved though they might be. “Oh, Sheila, have you heard? Cyril, have you heard anything about the bazaar and fête? We are to have such a time of it! Sheila, you will have to help us! We shall all be as busy as bees!” and the girls plunged into a recital of the coming excitements, to which Sheila listened with all her ears. “Oof! Won’t it be fun!” she cried, with her favourite little interjection which always made her cousins laugh. “I’m not a bit clever. I can’t sing or play or do anything like that; but I’ll help all I know. I shall be awfully pleased to!” “But if we get up some tableaux you can perform,” said Cyril. “You could manage to stand still for two minutes at a stretch, could you not, Sheila?” “Oof, yes! I could do that, only I’m afraid I should laugh in the middle! Effie, do you hear? There are to be such goings on. You’ll have to sing, I expect. Perhaps I’ll play for you, if I don’t get too frightened.” “Are you taking up your music again, my dear?” asked Mrs. Tom. “That is right. It will be a pleasure to you, I am sure.” “Yes, perhaps it will. I used to be fond of it, only I’ve not been able to do anything for so long; and if you can’t practise, I don’t think you ought to sing. I’ve been trying again these last few weeks. I think I shall get my voice back in time. But my throat is so weak still; I can’t do much at a time. I suppose it comes from being weak. If I were to get stronger, I should have more voice. I don’t care to make an exhibition of myself; but, of course, I’ll do anything I can to help the girls. I think people used to like to hear me sing.” “And they’ll like to hear you sing again. It would be a good opportunity for you to appear in public after being shut up so long,” said Mrs. Tom; “and you could work for the bazaar at any rate. We must all try to help as much as we can for a good cause such as this.” “Oh, I’ll try to do a little; but I never can settle long to anything. I suppose it’s the state of my nerves. I must always be jumping up and going off after something else. I have such a funny restless feeling. If I were to sit long over anything I should get quite wild; and then I should have an attack directly. That’s the worst of it. I can’t make myself do things like other people. I get ill directly. Not that I care so much myself; I’ve made up my mind not to care about anything; but just to take what comes. But it worries mother, and I must think of her; so I’ve got to take care of myself, though I do get very sick of it!” Cyril had got Sheila into a quiet corner where Oscar had joined them in response to the summons of her eyes. “All this will be rather a bore,” he began; but Sheila interrupted gaily—