"I'm very glad, dear Miss Bruce. I shall like to feel that some one is looking after Char who has known her all her life, and cared for her as you have. And you won't be far away, so that I shan't feel I've lost sight of you. You must come out and see me struggling with my convalescents." She stretched out her left hand, and Miss Bruce, answering her smile only with a convulsive pressure and a sort of sob compounded of mingled relief, gratitude, and compunction, hurried upstairs with her handkerchief undisguisedly held to her eyes. "Poor Miss Bruce! We shall make an exchange, Char," said her mother, "for I'm hoping that Grace will stay here and help me." "In what capacity?" "Any capacity she likes." "I hope," said Char, in tones which held more of doubt than of hopefulness, "that you will find her more accurate than I have. Good-night." She went upstairs in her turn, feeling oddly tired and with a disquieting sense of finality. Her way and her mother's had parted, and although Char knew little regret for a separation which had long held them apart in all but physical nearness, she felt to the full the disturbing element introduced by a definitely spoken renunciation. She would return to her work on the morrow, and make the move from Plessing as speedily as might be. But even in thinking of her work Char felt, that evening, no solace, for the recollection of her mother's words as to the frame of mind in which the staff might receive her left her strangely bereft of her usual armour of self-confidence. In the hall, Trevellyan asked Joanna rather wistfully: "Do you mind very much?" "Exchanging Miss Bruce for Grace? Do you think I shall lose by it?" They both laughed a little, and then Trevellyan, looking into the fire, observed: "I'm glad you're going to have her. I shall like thinking that she's working with you here." "I'm glad, Johnnie." There was the ghost of a flicker in Joanna's voice. "She'll be a comfort to you." "Yes, indeed she will. The difference of age hasn't prevented our being friends." "And--and you'll look after her?" "I hope so. At all events, I shan't allow her to do any nursing of wounded, since we know the unfortunate effect that the sight of blood has upon her." Joanna was laughing outright now. "Oh, did she tell you?" "Yes." "I think _that_ was the first time she and I ever had any real conversation." "Was it? It was rather talented of you, in the circumstances." "Cousin Joanna." "Yes, John." Captain Trevellyan bent a yet more ardent scrutiny upon the fire. "It seems the wrong time to say anything about it, but you always understand, and she and I could neither of us bear that you shouldn't know it at once. I couldn't go away without telling you. Not," said Johnnie, suddenly turning round and facing her, "that anything is settled, you know." "Except the only thing that matters," said Joanna softly.