He no longer required the arm of his valet to lean on, or even the help of a cane to walk with. One day his sister said to him: “Francis, I do believe that you have been more of a hypochondriac than of a real invalid, after all.” “Elf,” he answered, “I am inclined to suspect that you are right. Certainly most of my ailments, real or imaginary, have vanished under the influence of change, motion and society.” As the earl continued to improve in health and strength, his sister watched him with a new interest. On another day she said to him: “Francis, why don’t you marry?” Lord Enderby started, and then he laughed. “What has put that into your head?” he inquired. “My anxious interest in your future—now that you have a future, brother.” “Would you, who are my heir presumptive, wish me to marry?” “Indeed, I would! You would be so much better and happier! Think of it, Francis!” “My dearest, I am both too old and too young to fall in love!” laughed the earl. “What rubbish! ‘Too old and too young!’ What do you mean by such absurdity?” “I have passed my first youth of sentiment, and I have not yet reached my second childhood of senility! Therefore, I am both too old and too young to fall in love.” “Nonsense! That is not true; and, even if it were, you are neither too young nor too old to marry. It is not necessary that you should ‘fall in love.’ You might meet some lady, however, whom you could love, and esteem, and marry.” “Where should I be likely to find such a lady? My dear, I have never gone into society at all. Since my return from India I have led a secluded life, on account of my health.” “On account of your hypochondria, you mean! Now, Francis, you must change all that. In the beginning of the next London season you must open your house on Westbourne Terrace, and entertain company.” “Will you do the honors, Elfrida?” “Of course I will,” replied the lady. “And you can bring out your two daughters, and present them at court.” “Yes, I might do that.” “Very well.” Had the earl felt disposed to look about him for a wife, he might have found a suitable one in Baden-Baden. There were many of the English nobility and gentry staying there for the benefit of the baths. Many very attractive young ladies of rank were in the matrimonial market. But, to tell the truth, the invalid earl, either from real ill health or from hypochondria, was very shy of strangers, and better liked to stroll, or ride, or drive with “the children,” as he called his nieces and their young friend, than to linger in the parlors of the hotel or the pavilions of the place. In their rambles Odalite seldom joined them. She preferred to stay with her suffering father, and share the labors of her mother in the sick room. The earl and the three younger girls usually set out together. Wynnette and Elva walking on before; the earl, with little Rosemary’s hand clasped in his own, followed behind.