They had a long, quiet-toned conversation while Emmie dozed in the afternoon. Cathy did not talk much about Emmie. "She was delicate and needed the greatest care," that was all she would allow, but she was voluble on the subject of the loan, and almost overwhelmed her friend with her delighted gratitude.
"He will get on now, dear old fellow, and it is all owing to you," exclaimed the affectionate girl, and somehow Queenie's sore heart felt a little lighter. But on her own affairs Cathy was still very reticent. "I don't know what I am going to do, I have not made up my mind. I shall stay on here and work for a time, I suppose," and then, her color deepened, and she broke off rather suddenly.
But later on, as the three sat cosily round the fire and talked of their old feasts in the garret, and Emmie clapped her hands and laughed feebly over many a droll reminiscence, Queenie noticed that now and then the keen grey eyes were full of tears, and that she would look at her and the child rather strangely.
"Good-bye, God bless you both; and keep up a good heart, Queen," was all she said when she left them that night. But when she re-entered the hospital an hour later more than one patient noticed nurse Catherine's eyes were red, as though she had been weeping.
It was somewhat late the following afternoon when they drove into St. Leonards and took possession of their new abode. Emmie uttered an exclamation of delight as she looked round the large luxurious room prepared for their reception. A bright fire burnt cheerily, a trim maid-servant was spreading a snowy cloth over the little round table; the great crimson couch was drawn invitingly near the hearth, outside the pier light twinkled, and a windy flicker flared from the esplanade, while the deep wash and surge of the monotonous waves broke softly on her ears.
"Oh, Queenie, how homelike and delicious it looks! and oh, what beautiful flowers!"
"Mrs. Bennet must have sent these," returned Queenie gratefully, as she carried the delicate spring bouquet of violets and snowdrops to Emmie. "I am so glad you are pleased with our new home, darling. Look, there is the bay-window you wanted, and behind those folding doors is our bed-room. Mrs. Bennet thought it would be quiet and snug, and there would be no tiresome stairs for you to climb."
"I am sure Mrs. Bennet must be very nice," was Emmie's answer, and then, as she seemed exhausted and disposed to close her eyes, Queenie prudently left her to repose.
Emmie's favorable opinion of their new acquaintance was soon verified, for the Bennets called the next day, and quite won the sisters' hearts by their geniality and unobtrusive kindness. Dr. Bennet was a little bluff and hasty in manner at first, but as this wore off he and Emmie became excellent friends. His wife was a quiet, motherly-looking woman, and Emmie took a fancy to her on the spot.
"Isn't she just like dear Miss Cosie, Queen, with those grey curls and that comfortable soft voice; if she would only say 'There, there, poor dear,' as Miss Cosie always does," finished the child with a quaint smile.