So things slowly worked themselves out to a joyful issue. Beatrice was told that in a few days she would be informed of all that had taken place since she fainted in the counting-house, and obeyed the orders of Vivian that, until the time came, she was not to ask any questions. Then one glorious autumn day, when the sun was shining with a summer-like force, and everything seemed to revive under its royal beams, Vivian carried her down the stairs as usual and out on to the terrace. Here, in her favourite nook, she rested contentedly on a soft couch, and a small table was placed beside her. Dinah and Jerry, who were also faithful attendants, hovered round with shawls and rugs and reviving drinks, and such-like things. When Beatrice was comfortably established, she took Vivian's hand softly.
"How good it is to be loved!" she said sweetly.
"Who could help loving you, my own?" said Paslow tenderly. "We are all your slaves here."
"Where is Durban?"
"He will come shortly. And Dinah and Jerry can go away?"
"Why?" demanded Dinah quickly, and rather offended.
"Because Dr. Herman says that I can tell Beatrice everything, and it will be better that we should be alone."
"Oh, Vivian"--the face of the invalid flushed a rose colour--"am I to know everything now?"
"Yes"--he bent down and kissed her--"as a reward for obedience. Then Durban will come and see you; and Jerry can escort Dinah back, unless they forget us in love-making."
"Well," said Jerry very shrewdly, and taking Dinah's hand, "I expect you really won't want us, as you will be love-making yourselves. Besides, I have to read a letter to Dinah."