“I think you have got thinner, but you look well, Sheila. Oh, yes, I’m ever so much better! I’ve said good-bye to doctors. I mean to go my own way now and not take care anymore. I don’t believe in coddling. I’m going to be my own doctor in the future. I’m not sure that any of them really understood me. Anyhow, I’ve had enough of them, and now I shall go my own way. Mamma can have Oscar to coddle. I’m sure he looks as though he wanted it.” “He’s getting into the rebellious stage now,” answered Sheila. “I shall be glad of your assistance in keeping him in order. Isn’t everything looking lovely, Effie? Are you glad to be home again? And how is dear Madeira and all the people there? Did you leave any there whom I knew?” “Not many. Mrs. Reid sent you a lot of messages, and I’ve got a pen-tray for you from her too. We came back in the same boat as Ella and Grace Murchison; but you never knew them well, did you? All the Dumaresq party had been gone some time. I suppose you heard that from May Lawrence.” “She told me they had gone on to Oratava when Sir Guy was so much better, but Miss Adene did not write very often.” Effie had got her arm linked into Sheila’s by this time, and had walked her out upon the terrace, leaving Mrs. Cossart with Oscar in the drawing-room. She was all eagerness to learn the home news from him, but Effie wanted Sheila’s attention for herself. “You know it was all a great mistake of mother’s packing you off home in one of her tantrums. I told her so at the time. I know things were a little uncomfortable, but I was against it. I can generally get my way with mother, but I couldn’t that time. But you hadn’t been gone three days before she found out what a mistake it was.” “What do you mean?” asked Sheila with a subdued eagerness in her voice. “Why, you know,” answered Effie, with her curious mixture of frankness and self-consciousness, “it didn’t seem to answer a bit. Mother thought Mr. Dumaresq was going to make love to me or something—as though I wanted him! I liked him all right, but I was never particularly taken by him. He has not brains enough for me, and he never understood me. I always felt that when we were talking together. I was always above his head somehow. Besides, she might have seen that the Dumaresqs had taken a fancy to you, and that packing you off would vex them. They never were a bit the same afterwards. They sat at a different table, and we hardly saw them. And people talked so. I got it out of Mrs. Reid. They all said you had been sent away because I was jealous—or mother. I don’t care what people think. It makes no difference to me. I never care a bit about gossip. But mother was terribly put about, and papa was very vexed too. It seemed to spoil things very much. I do believe, if it hadn’t been for Oscar’s illness, they would have had you back!”