'A maid of grace and complete majesty.'
Later on in the morning Mildred was passing by the door of her brother's study, when she heard his voice calling to her. He was sitting in his usual chair, with his back to the light, reading, but he laid down his book directly.
'Are you busy, Mildred?'
'Not if you want me,' she returned, brightly. 'I was just thinking I had hardly spoken to you to-day.'
'The same thought was lying heavy on my conscience. Heriot tells me you are looking better already. I hope you are beginning to feel at home with us, my dear.'
'With you, Arnold—do you need to ask?' Mildred returned, reproachfully. But the tears started to her eyes.
'And the children are good to you?' he continued, a little anxiously.
'They are everything I can wish. Cardie is most thoughtful for my comfort, and Olive is fast losing her shyness. The only thing I regret is that I manage to see so little of you, Arnold.'
He patted her hand gently. 'It is better so, my dear. I am poor company, I fear, and have grown into strangely unsociable ways. They are good children; but you must not let them spoil me, Mildred. Sometimes I think I ought to rouse myself more for their sakes.'