"Tony, if you talk any more about Miss Foster I'll pinch you. I tell you I'm thankful she's away. Now take me upstairs to my bed."
Matron, trim and neat in the uniform of a hospital nurse, met them at the bedroom door. Lallie held out both her hands in greeting.
"I'm ever so pleased to meet you, Matron, dear," she cried in her sweet voice. "You'll remember my brother, Paddy Clonmell? he's devoted to you, and I'm to give you his love and no end of messages."
The matron's kind, worn face beamed.
"Mr. Clonmell's sister, isn't it, sir?" she said, turning to Tony. "She has arrived before you expected her, so I've put her in Miss Foster's room for to-night. I will see that her own is all in order to-morrow. I'll look after her and take care that she is comfortable."
"Good-night, Lallie," said Tony, looking much relieved. "Don't trouble to get up to breakfast; Ford will bring you some upstairs. Sleep well!"
He turned to depart, but the girl came flying after him to the head of the stairs.
"Aren't you going to kiss me good-night, Tony?" she cried reproachfully, "an' me so tired and homesick and all."
She turned up her face towards his--the pathetic, tired child-face.
Tony Bevan's somewhat weather-beaten countenance turned a dusky crimson. He dropped a hasty kiss on the very top of her head and fled down the staircase without looking back.