cal girl as I was--she would hardly like now to settle down as an
islander's wife; and to leave her living here alone would trouble me.'

'Nothing will happen to you yet, I hope, my dear old friend.'

'Well, it is a risky complaint; and the attacks, when they come, are
so agonizing that to endure them I ought to get rid of all outside
anxieties, folk say. Now--do you want her, sir?'

'With all my soul! But she doesn't want me.'

'I don't think she is so against you as you imagine. I fancy if it were
put to her plainly, now I am in this state, it might be done.'

They lapsed into conversation on the early days of their acquaintance,
until Mrs. Pierston's daughter re-entered the room.

'Avice,' said her mother, when the girl had been with them a few
minutes. 'About this matter that I have talked over with you so many
times since my attack. Here is Mr. Pierston, and he wishes to be your
husband. He is much older than you; but, in spite of it, that you will
ever get a better husband I don't believe. Now, will you take him,
seeing the state I am in, and how naturally anxious I am to see you
settled before I die?'

'But you won't die, mother! You are getting better!'

'Just for the present only. Come, he is a good man and a clever man, and
a rich man. I want you, O so much, to be his wife! I can say no more.'

Avice looked appealingly at the sculptor, and then on the floor. 'Does
he really wish me to?' she asked almost inaudibly, turning as she spoke
to Pierston. 'He has never quite said so to me.'

'My dear one, how can you doubt it?' said Jocelyn quickly. 'But I won't
press you to marry me as a favour, against your feelings.'

'I thought Mr. Pierston was younger!' she murmured to her mother.

'That counts for little, when you think how much there is on the other
side. Think of our position, and of his--a sculptor, with a mansion, and
a studio full of busts and statues that I have dusted in my time, and
of the beautiful studies you would be able to take up. Surely the life
would just suit you? Your expensive education is wasted down here!'

Avice did not care to argue. She was outwardly gentle as her grandmother
had been, and it seemed just a question with her of whether she must or
must not. 'Very well--I feel I ought to agree to marry him, since you
tell me to,' she answered quietly, after some thought. 'I see that it
would be a wise thing to do, and that you wish it, and that Mr. Pierston
really does--like me