"Antony," she said suddenly; and there seemed to be a new light in her eyes as she opened them wildly, "I am going to get well now. I could not before, for thinking about the past." "I hope and pray that you will," I said, with a strange sensation of fear creeping through me. "I shall," she said quickly. "I can feel it now. Last week I thought that I was going to die. Now talk to me about Miss Carr. Is she very beautiful?" "Yes," I said eagerly, "very beautiful." "More handsome than I used to be?" she said, laughing. "Oh, she's very different to you, Linny," I said, flushing. "She is tall and noble-looking, and dark, while you are little and fair. One could not compare you two together." "It was no wonder, then, that Mr Lister should love her." "Oh no," I said. "Any man who saw her would be sure to love her." She sighed softly. "Is she--is she a good woman?" "Good?" I cried enthusiastically; "there could not be a better woman." "And--and--" she faltered, moistening her dry lips, "do you think she will marry Mr Lister?" "I am sure she will not," I said indignantly. "But she loved him." "No," I said thoughtfully; "I don't think she did much." "But he loved her." "Ye-es, I suppose so," I said; "but he could not have loved her much, or he would not have behaved as he did." There was a pause then, during which Linny lay playing with my hand. "Antony," she cried suddenly, "Miss Carr will forgive him some day." "Forgive him!" I said. "Yes, she is so good a woman that I dare say she will forgive him, but everything is over between them now." "I am very glad," she said dreamily, "for I should be sorry if anything else took place." "What! should you be jealous, Linny?" "No," she said decidedly, "only very, very sorry for her. Oh! Antony," she said, bursting into passionate tears, "I was very ignorant and very blind." "Linny, Linny, my child, what is the matter?" cried Hallett, entering the room, and flying with all a woman's solicitude to the couch, to take the light wasted form in his arms. "Heaven help me, she's worse. The doctor, Antony, quick!" "No, no, no," cried Linny, throwing her arms round her brother's neck; "I am better, Steve, better now. It is only sorrow that I have been so blind." "So blind, my darling?" "Yes, yes," she sobbed excitedly, pressing her brother's dark hair from his forehead, and covering his face with her kisses, "that I was so blind, and weak, and young. I did not know who loved me, and who did not; but it's all over now, Steve dear. Dear brother, it's all over now." "My darling," he whispered, "let me send for help!" "No, no," she cried, "what for? I am better--so much better, Stephen. That is all taken off my mind, and I have nothing to do now but love you, love you all, and get well."