“Oh, if you would!” said Margaret. “I’ve been wondering how I was to get Phil home safely. But perhaps you were going somewhere else? We haven’t any right to ask you to take all the trouble, Mr. North, I know.” “If you think I can help I’ll be very glad to go with you,” he answered readily. “Recess doesn’t begin until Saturday, but if you leave Thursday I can sign off, I think. I don’t believe, however, that I ought to stay at Elaine, Miss Ryerson; you’ll have trouble enough with this cantankerous invalid without having a guest to bother with.” “I’m not cantankerous!” cried Phillip. “I’m mighty good; ask Margey! And, anyhow, you’re not a guest; you’re just――just John. And I want you to stay a week. If you don’t I shall have a relapse. I reckon there’s one coming on now! Will you stay? Quick! It’s coming!” “Maybe,” laughed John. “For a day or two, anyhow, Phil, if your sister will put up with the bother.” Callers came thick that week. Chester was among the first. He reviled himself eloquently and at great length, and assured Phillip that he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since the other had been ill. Phillip begged him to go back to his room and get some at once and stop talking nonsense. David came, and Guy Bassett, and more beside. David told Phillip solemnly that he was sure he would get well if he stuck to the calf’s-foot jelly; and Phillip very carefully refrained from telling him that the contents of the case were still untouched. Betty’s violets continued to come every morning, and of late little notes――rather incoherent and very sprawly――came with them. Phillip spent a good deal of time with a pad on his knee answering them. Of course Margaret had learned about Betty. Charged with the fell crime of being in love, Phillip had made a clean breast of it all, and Margaret had perforce to listen, sometimes for an hour at a time, to enthusiastic eulogies of Miss Betty Kingsford. But for all that she had no intention of accepting Betty on such slim evidence as a lover’s praises; she must see her first. As a matter of fact, Margaret had her doubts as to the worthiness of Miss Kingsford, just as she would have had doubts as to the worthiness of any girl who attained to the honour of becoming Mrs. Phillip Ryerson. Deep in her heart she doubted if any girl was quite good enough for Phil. Phillip saw Betty but once before he went home. It had been all arranged beforehand. Everett was to bring her out on Wednesday afternoon; they were to leave Thursday evening. Phillip was in a state of illy concealed excitement and impatience all that day. He worried Margaret half to death with his constant suggestions for the improvement of the room; chairs were moved hither and thither and then moved back again; flowers were distributed upon all sides; he would have had the pictures on the wall rearranged had not Margaret’s patience come to an end and had she not flatly refused to move another thing.