"Antony," she said softly, "I am not well to-night. Forgive me if I have disappointed you. Another time we must make up for this." "Oh, Miss Carr," I said, "you have been so grieved." "Yes, greatly grieved, Antony, in many ways--not least that I spoke to you so harshly as I did." "But you are not angry with me?" I said. "You forgive me for not speaking out." "Forgive you?" she said softly--"forgive you, my boy?--yes. But go now; I do not feel myself. Good-night, Antony, my dear boy; go." To my surprise, she took me tenderly in her arms and kissed me, leading me afterwards to the door, and laying her cheek against my forehead before she let me out. "Come to me to-morrow, Antony; come again to dinner; perhaps the next day I may be leaving town." CHAPTER FORTY FIVE. HALLETT'S NEW LANDLORD. A year slipped rapidly away, full of changes for some people, no doubt; but to me it was very uneventful. I worked away at my profession steadily, liking it better every day, and for nothing more strongly than that it gave me knowledge that I felt would be of advantage to Stephen Hallett, with whom I grew more intimate than ever. The home at Great Ormond Street seemed now less sombre and desolate; for since her serious illness, from which poor Linny had been literally nursed back into life by Mary and Hallett, the girl was completely changed. As she began to mend, I used to find a great deal of time to go and sit with her; for her return to strength was very slow, and the poor worn face would light up and the great staring eyes brighten whenever I went into the room with some little offering or another that I thought would please her. Sometimes it would be flowers, or fruit, or any little delicacy that I thought she would fancy; but the greatest pleasure I could give her was to take some fresh book, and sit and read. She used to lie upon a couch near the window, where she could look out upon the sky, and when I was not there I suppose she would lie like that, thinking, for hours, without speaking a word. Mary had grown to be quite an institution at the place, and the two invalids at last took up so much of her time, that a scheme was one day proposed by me, consequent upon an announcement made to me by Hallett. "We shall be obliged to leave," he said. "The tenants of this house are going away." "But it will be terrible work, Hallett," I said. "How will Linny and Mrs Hallett bear the change?" "I hope patiently and well," he said quietly, and the subject dropped; but an idea had occurred to me which I hastened to put in force. My first step was to write to Miss Carr, whom I had not seen for many, many months, as, directly after the meeting with Mr Lister she had gone on the Continent with her newly-married sister, whose husband had an official appointment at Marseilles, and had resided with her ever since.