"Here!" called Camille rising, while Joyce hastily shook up the pillows and arranged her hair. "What's wanted of us?"
"Very little," cried Larry, bouncing in with a beaming face. "I've simply brought you a new beau," and he pointed behind him to a tall, straight figure in dark blue, which stood at "attention," smiling happily.
"Leon!" cried Camille, springing to his arms, and Joyce was thankful for the instant's space in which to collect herself.
When he turned quickly to her both hands were out to meet his own, but she neither paled nor flushed as her eyes met his with a glance of truest friendship and camaraderie.
CHAPTER XXVI.
NOT WELCOME.
They visited long that evening, and Joyce slept late the next day. When she arose Ellen hastened to inform her that Lucy Hapgood had telephoned to ask when she might call and talk with her a few moments, and that Mr. Dalton was below, waiting for a certain architect's drawing Joyce had wished him to see, but would not let her be disturbed till she awoke of her own accord.
"I told him, if 'twas just a drawin' that I'd bring the pile of 'em, and let him pick out what he wanted, seeing he was in a hurry," explained Ellen, "but he seemed to think he'd better wait till you come, so I let him. But I was bound I wouldn't wake you up, if he stayed all day!"
"Thank you, Ellen, but never fear to waken me when he—or any one—is waiting. Has he been here long?"