The girl looked at her, slightly mystified.  “But they’ve been gathered, miss.  Didn’t you know?  Cook thought you had done them yourself before you took ill.”

Olga put her hand to her head.  “No, I didn’t.  I hadn’t finished.  I dropped them all too.”

“Well, they’re in the pantry now, miss, and cook was wondering if she hadn’t better start the jam first thing in the morning.”

“Who brought them in?” asked Olga quickly.

The housemaid didn’t know.  She departed to ask.

Olga leaned back again on her cushions.  She was growing a little tired of inactivity, notwithstanding the undeniable languor that had succeeded the previous day’s headache.

The sound of voices in the hall outside, however, dispelled her boredom almost before she had time to recognize it.  She suddenly remembered Max’s pal, and started up in haste to smooth her rumpled hair.  Surely Max would not be so inconsiderate as to bring him straight in to her without a moment’s preparation!

This was evidently his intention, however, for she heard their footsteps drawing nearer, and she was possessed by a momentary shyness so acute that she nearly fled through the window.  It really was too bad of Max!

“Come in here!” she heard him say, and with an effort she braced herself to encounter the stranger.

He entered, paused a second, and came forward.  And in that second very strangely and quite completely her embarrassment vanished.  She found herself shaking hands with a large, kindly man, who looked at her with deep-set, friendly eyes and asked her in a voice of marvellous softness how she was.

Her heart warmed to him on the instant, and she forgave Max forthwith.

“I am quite well,” she said.  “Have you walked from the station?  Please sit down!”

He was years older than Max, she saw, this man whom the latter had so airily described as his pal.  There was a bald patch on the back of his head, and his brows were turning grey.  His face was clean-shaven, and she thought his mouth the kindest and the saddest she had ever seen.

“Yes, I walked,” he said.  “Max brought me across the fields.  It was very pleasant.  There is a good breeze to-day."’

“I am sure you must be thirsty,” Olga said, mindful of the honours of the house.  “Max, please go and find something to drink and bring it here!”

“No, no, my dear fellow!  I can wait,” protested the newcomer.  But Max had already departed upon his errand.  He turned back smiling to the girl.  “I know you were lying on the sofa when I came in.  Please lie down again!”

“I’ve had more than enough of it,” she assured him.  “I don’t think lying still suits me.  I only did it to please Nick.  He will be in directly.”

“Nick is your brother?” he asked.

Olga’s smile flashed out.  “Not quite.  He is three parts brother to one part uncle.  That is to say, he is Dad’s half-brother, but nearer my age than Dad’s.”