"She ought to be here by four o'clock," observed Bessy, continuing the conversation. "Otherwise, she cannot be here until seven. No train comes in from Farnley between four o'clock and seven, does it, Thomas?" "I think not," replied Thomas Godolphin. "But I really know very little about their branch lines. Stay. Farnley? No: I remember: I am sure that nothing comes in between four and seven." "Don't fash yourselves," said Janet with composure, who had been occupied with the urn. "When Mrs. Briscow sends me word she will arrive by the afternoon train, I know she can only mean the one that gets here at four o'clock: and I shall be there at four in the carriage to meet her. She is early in her ideas, and she would have called seven the night train." Cecil, who appeared to be more engaged in toying with the black ribbons that were flowing from the white sleeves round her pretty wrists, than in taking her breakfast, looked up at her sister. "How long is it since she was here last, Janet?" "She was here the summer after your mother died." "All that time!" exclaimed Cecil. "It is very good of her to leave her home at her age, and come amongst us once again." "It is George who is bringing her here; I am sure of that," returned Janet. "She was so concerned about his illness. She wants to see him now he is getting better. George was always her favourite." "How is George this morning?" inquired Thomas Godolphin. "George is alive and pretty well," replied a voice from the door, which had opened. There stood George himself. Alive decidedly; but weak and wan still. He could walk with the help of one stick now. "If I don't make an effort--as somebody says, in that bookcase--I may remain a puny invalid for ever, like a woman. I thought I'd try and surprise you." They made a place for him, and placed a chair, and set good things before him; all in affectionate eagerness. But George Godolphin could not accomplish much breakfast yet. "My appetite is capricious, Janet," he observed. "I think to-morrow I will try chocolate and milk." "A cup can be made at once, George, if you would like it." "No, I don't care about it now. I suppose the doctors are right that I can't get into proper order again, without change. A dull time of it, I shall have, whatever place they may exile me to."