"I don't often," said Aldred, who, indeed, was seldom troubled with illness of any kind.

"I'll ask Mother if she can give you some medicine. You must get well by to-morrow! We couldn't possibly go to Evington without you. Think how disappointed Cousin Marion would be--and so should I, for I'm looking forward so much to taking you!"

In spite of herself, Aldred could not stifle a groan of despair.

"Do you really feel so poorly? Are you in pain? Perhaps we ought to send for the doctor. I'll go and fetch Mother immediately; she's a splendid nurse."

"No, no! Please don't!" cried Aldred. "I dare say I shall be better soon. I don't want to make a fuss, and upset everybody."

"You never do that, you're too unselfish and considerate. I know how ill you must feel, to mention it at all. I hope it's nothing serious!" and Mabel rushed off in quite a fever of excitement and alarm, to fetch her mother.

Lady Muriel was kindness itself.

"I expect you are a little overdone, dear child," she said. "We have been working you rather hard at sight-seeing, and perhaps letting you stay up too late. After the regular hours at school, the holidays are sometimes apt to upset young people. If your head aches, wouldn't you like to go to your bedroom, and rest quite quietly?"

"Yes, please," said Aldred.

She was devoutly thankful for the suggestion. Her one longing was to be alone, so that she might realize the blow that threatened her, and plan some means of averting it. Mabel's well-meant sympathy was almost agony in the circ.u.mstances; all she wanted was time to collect her thoughts.

It was with a sense of intense relief, therefore, that she allowed herself to be put to lie down in her room. Lady Muriel drew the dark curtains across the window, rang for a siphon of soda water, and, having done everything in her power for the comfort of her young guest, took her departure, bearing with her the reluctant Mabel.

"Couldn't I just stay in the room, in case Aldred wants anything?" the latter pleaded. "I wouldn't speak a word."

"No, no! Aldred must be left quiet. If she can go to sleep, she may possibly feel better in the afternoon."

For once Aldred was quite glad to be rid of her friend. She hoped no one would disturb her for a long while, for she wished thoroughly to review the situation. This was indeed a catastrophe! A visit to Cousin Marion!--Cousin Marion, who would be sure to remember the appearance of the girl she had seen on the pier at Seaforth, and would realize in a moment that the two were not the same. She would no doubt express surprise at the difference, then questions would be asked, and the whole of the wretched affair would have to come out. It meant a complete exposure, and what the sequel would be Aldred dreaded even to imagine.

"They would call me a hypocrite and a deceiver, and so I am!" she thought bitterly. "I couldn't stay any longer in the house. I should be obliged to go home immediately; and what excuse could I give to Aunt Bertha for cutting short my visit? She would insist upon worrying the truth from me, and I should get into equal trouble at home. Keith would hear, and he would never forgive me. I don't believe I could even return to Birkwood, if all the girls at school were to know about it too."

She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice, and that at any moment the frail ground might give way under her feet, and plunge her into the depths of the abyss. "Cousin Marion" seemed her evil genius; from the very first Aldred had been haunted by the fear of this meeting. It was wrong to wish people ill, but she regretted with all her heart that the German spa had effected so speedy a cure, and that the doctor had given permission for the invalid to return to England.

"I've been practising a fraud for the last eight months," she groaned, burying her face in the pillow. "I'll allow that much to myself, though I'll try to hide it from everyone else."

The agony she was enduring made her really feverish, for distress of mind is often far harder to bear than pain of body. She had gained all she wanted--popularity at school, a complete hold upon Mabel's affection, and a permanent invitation to a house where it was an honour to be received as a guest. And now, must all this be lost? The friendship had grown so necessary to her that she felt she could not live without it, and the prospect of estrangement and cold looks was appalling. At any cost she must manage to avoid this fatal expedition to Evington. She would sham illness, and ask to remain in her bedroom, so that they could not possibly include her in the party. To be sure, she would miss everything that was going on; but that was nothing, in comparison with the horror of an introduction to "Cousin Marion".

"If she comes over here, and asks to see me, I must have something infectious!" thought Aldred. "I wonder if I could rub anything on me to bring out a rash? Nettles might do it, only I can't go out to pick them.

Was any wretched girl ever in such a desperate strait?"

She had had so little experience of ill health that it was rather difficult for her to feign symptoms. She had mentioned biliousness to Mabel on the spur of the moment, as it was the first idea that came into her head; but she had rarely suffered from an attack. She remembered, however, that it included a bad headache, and a disinclination to consume anything except soda water and biscuits.

"I shan't dare to touch proper meals, no matter how hungry I am," she reflected. "I expect I shall be nearly starving before to-morrow is over. I wish now I had said I had a sore throat, and then perhaps they would have been afraid of influenza, and have isolated me at once. Oh, dear! Mabel's tennis party is to be this afternoon, and I shall have to stop here and lose all the fun. Francis Farrington asked me to be his partner, and he plays so well that I'm sure we should have beaten all the others!"

She was shedding hot, bitter tears, not so much of regret for the long months of deception as of chagrin for the pleasure she must needs forgo.

She was sorry, indeed, for the course she had taken, but it was not real repentance, only a wish to escape disagreeable consequences. Aldred had much to learn yet before she could set the desire for right above the love of approbation, or practise truth for its own sake.

When Lady Muriel and Mabel came to see her, about one o'clock, they found her with red eyes, a flushed face, and a genuine headache.

"You must lie still," said Lady Muriel, after feeling her hot hands.

"You seem quite feverish, and mustn't on any account try to get up and race about at tennis; it would be the worst thing possible for you. I'm so grieved about it, dear!"

"It's most disappointing!" echoed Mabel. "I should like to stay and spend the afternoon with you, only it would be so rude to the other visitors. Perhaps I can keep running in between the sets."

"No, don't!" protested Aldred. "You're indispensable, and will be needed out-of-doors all the time. You mustn't bother about me."

At present she much preferred her friend's absence. She was afraid she might not be able to play her part adequately, and that the loving, watchful eyes might discover how little she really ailed. Mabel also would be sure to talk of nothing but her Cousin Marion, in the circ.u.mstances the most unpalatable topic possible.

There was no lunch for Aldred that day; she ate three biscuits, the utmost limit she felt she dared allow herself, and drank some soda water. She longed for roast beef and potatoes, but knew that an invalid who could demand such solid fare would scarcely receive credence.

"I suppose I can hold out until to-morrow evening," she thought, "but after that I shall be obliged to confess to an appet.i.te."

She spent an extremely dull afternoon, listening wistfully to the sound of voices wafted from the tennis lawn. There were no books in her room, and she had not liked to ask for one, lest the request should be taken as a sign of her recovery. She was virtually a prisoner, and though her solitary confinement was self-const.i.tuted, it was no less wearisome on that account. She was able to indulge in a cup of weak tea and a slice of thin, dry toast at four o'clock, but her supper was as unsatisfying as her lunch, and she felt nearly famished when her solicitous hostess, after performing every possible kind service, finally left her arranged for the night.

Oh, how she yearned to get up next morning, and present herself at the breakfast table! It seemed intolerable to be obliged to spend another day in bed on starvation diet, but she was forced to restrain herself, and to look subdued and suffering when her attentive friends paid their early visit.

"I hoped you would feel better to-day," said Lady Muriel, with real concern in her voice. "I shall telephone for Dr. Rawlins, and ask him to call and see you first thing, before he begins his rounds. I feel responsible to your father for you, and it is well to be wise in time."

In spite of Aldred's protestations, Lady Muriel insisted upon sending for the doctor, who came promptly in response to her message. He examined his patient carefully, took her temperature, felt her pulse, and made her put out her tongue. He looked at her so attentively, and with such keen eyes, that Aldred could not help turning rather red. Did he know, she wondered, that she was only shamming, and was he going to denounce her as a humbug? His expression, however, was inscrutable, and after asking her several questions, to which she gave reluctant replies, he turned to Lady Muriel.

"I think you have no cause for uneasiness," he said. "It is merely a slight, temporary indisposition, which will soon pa.s.s. I will make up a bottle of medicine that ought to do her good."

"Mr. Farrington feared it might be motor sickness," observed Lady Muriel. "We have taken her about so much in the car, and the motion certainly affects some people."

Aldred caught at the suggestion as a drowning man clutches at a straw.

"Yes, it must be that. I'm sure it would make me sick to go in the motor again," she volunteered eagerly, raising herself on her elbow in her excitement, but sinking back languidly on to the pillow as she caught the doctor's contemplative eye.

"We wished very much to take her to Evington to-day, but I'm afraid she's not fit for it, poor dear child!" continued Lady Muriel.

"Let her stop at home, then," replied Dr. Rawlins, whose tone was hardly so sympathetic. "There is not the slightest need, however, for anyone else to stay on her account. She is much better left alone, and I forbid Mabel to come into her room until this evening."

"I should scarcely like to leave her," objected Lady Muriel anxiously.

"It is such a responsibility to have the charge of someone else's daughter!"

"Install one of the housemaids as nurse, to see that she takes her medicine. No, Lady Muriel! As your physician, I insist that you go out for some fresh air. I have your health to consider as well as that of your young guest. She'll be in no danger while you are away."

The medicine arrived shortly after the doctor's departure--much too soon, in Aldred's opinion. It was a huge bottle, and was labelled: "Two tablespoonfuls to be taken every two hours". Anything more absolutely disgusting Aldred had never tasted; it seemed a combined mixture of every disagreeable drug in the pharmacopia. Burke, an elderly servant, had been placed on duty in the sick-room, and informed her patient that she had received express orders from Dr. Rawlins himself not to omit a single dose.

"He told me most particularly, miss, that you were to have it," she announced, in reply to Aldred's violent objections. "He said it was most important, and if I couldn't get you to take it I was to telephone for him, and he'd come himself and make you!"

Aldred swallowed her nauseous draught at a gulp. She was not anxious to receive another professional visit. She had gathered from the doctor's manner that he diagnosed the nature of the case, though he did not care to offend Lady Muriel by expounding his opinion. It was ill-natured of him, the girl thought, to give her so severe a punishment; he could not understand her motives, and he might have treated her with more consideration. The one redeeming point of the medicine was that it utterly spoilt her appet.i.te, and took away all desire for food; and she was enabled to show a genuine lack of interest in the beef-tea and jelly that were sent up for her.

Another long, long day dragged itself out. Aldred was in the very lowest of low spirits. She had ventured to beg for a book, but Burke promptly replied that the doctor had forbidden either reading or conversation, and had recommended her to keep perfectly quiet. So there was nothing for it but to lie with half-closed eyes, listening to the everlasting click of Burke's knitting needles, an irritating sound in itself, and made worse by its monotony. Aldred counted the spots on the muslin blinds and the roses on the chintz bed curtains, and tried to imagine faces in the pattern of the wall paper; she recited in her mind every piece of poetry that she knew, and as much as she could remember of the play the girls had acted at Christmas. She was even reduced to repeating French verbs, to relieve her utter boredom; and hardly knew whether to be glad or apprehensive when Mabel paid her a visit at seven o'clock.

"We've had a glorious afternoon," said the latter. "The road was free, so we spun along, and got to Evington in an hour and a half. Cousin Marion was so delighted to see us! She'd have been very disappointed if we hadn't gone."

"I'm so glad you did!" put in Aldred.

"But she was fearfully disappointed not to see you, darling, and so sorry when we told her you were ill. We talked about you for quite a long time. Didn't your ears burn this afternoon?"

"I didn't notice."