Because there were now only occasional notices in the papers about his health, he was supposed to be getting well.
"I will implore Cheiron to let me go back with him," she decided firmly, as she went downstairs to breakfast.

"I will ask if I may not go out and see him this morning," and, comforted with this thought, she entered the dining-room with a brisker step than usual.

No one but her stepfather was down.
He had grown accustomed, if not quite attached, to the quiet, gentle girl, and he liked her noiseless, punctual way--they had often breakfasted alone.
He was reading his _Chronicle_ propped up in front of him, and handed her the _Morning Post_ from the pile by his side.

He silently went on with his cutlet which an obsequious butler had placed for his consumption.

Halcyone turned rapidly to the column where she was accustomed to look daily for news of her lover.