'Celestina,' she said, 'I do wish I could see papa. It would make me _quite_ sure he's alive, you know, for it all seems so muddled in my head since the day I was so naughty. And if he'd forgive me, and if he'd get better, I think, _perhaps_, I'd ask God to make me better too, so that I might make papa's tea and read aloud to him like you do.' 'Perhaps it wouldn't be exactly that,' said Celestina, a little afraid of the responsibility of putting anything into Bridget's head, 'but I'm sure you could do _something_. And why shouldn't you see him? Miss Alie was in his room just now.' Bridget would have hung her head if she had not been lying down. As it was, she looked ashamed. 'He mustn't get up at all, you know,' she said. 'And one day when they offered me to go to see him, I wouldn't.' 'You wouldn't?' exclaimed Celestina. 'No,' said Biddy; 'I didn't want to see him looking like he did that day.' 'But you'd like to see him now, wouldn't you?' 'Yes,' said Biddy. 'If you were to get me my dressing-gown, Celestina, don't you think I might just run down the passage and the little stair and go to see him? He lies on the sofa in his room, Alie said one day.' Celestina looked frightened. 'Don't you think you should ask your mamma first?' she said. 'Besides, I thought you were too ill to walk.' 'Oh no,' said Bridget; 'I think I could walk if I tried. But you may go and ask mamma if you like; I'm sure she'll say I may.' Off flew Celestina. She too felt pretty sure that Mrs. Vane would be pleased to hear of Biddy's wish. But when she got to the room where she had left her mother with Mrs. Vane, they were not there, and Alie, who came in a moment afterwards, said they were walking up and down the garden; if Celestina would go out she would be sure to meet them. 'And mamma will be very pleased to hear that Biddy wants to go to see papa. He has asked for her several times, but he said she wasn't to be forced, not till she felt inclined. Papa _is_ so good and patient, and he is really a little bit better to-day,' said Rosalys brightly. Upstairs Bridget was eagerly waiting for Celestina's return. She had got out of bed and reached down her dressing-gown for herself, feeling rather surprised at finding how well she could walk; she had found her slippers too, and stood there leaning against the bed, quite ready for her little expedition. After a while she crept to the door and peeped out. Sounds, cheerful sounds of the usual morning stir in a well-managed house came up the stairs; she heard faint clatter from the kitchen, and now and then a little laugh or a few words of the servants talking together. But no one was about upstairs. 'Papa must be a little better,' thought Bridget, 'else they wouldn't seem like that. I do wish Celestina would come back. I wonder if she's forgotten?'