had said to wound her pride, she had no right to forget his
weakness, his danger, his lonely, piteous age. Anger died a rapid
death, and gave place to an even keener sympathy. When Mr Farrell
looked up again, it was to find the grey eyes wet with tears, and the
lips trembling with emotion.

"Oh, you poor old man--you poor old man! Why will you make it so
difficult? Why won't you let us love you and be a comfort, instead of a
trouble? We would, if you would allow us. We want to, but you keep us
at arm's length, and scold and sneer. I am not thinking of myself. I
am young and strong, and I have my home and my dear little mother. I
shall be happy, whatever happens. It's _you_ I am sorry for! I hate to
see you ill and lonely. You have given a great deal to me; can't you be
generous enough to take something in return? There are only two months
left. The time is nearly half over. Can't we be friends--real
friends--until the end?"

She drew nearer as she spoke, and saw no rebuff in the watching face,
until at last she sank on her knees before him, and timidly touched his
hand.

"Uncle Bernard, speak! Say something to me!"

Still the old man hesitated; but his hand lay quietly in hers, and did
not try to escape.

"What can I say?" he asked slowly at last. "I believe you are a good
child; I believe you are honest; but my days are past for making
friendships. I have felt deeply in my time, but the power of loving
died away with everything else which made life worth living. I cannot
promise what is impossible."

"But you can at least give me a chance of loving you. I won't ask any
more favours if you will just talk to me a little sometimes, without
sneering at me, and let me walk with you about the grounds and be a
little bit of a companion. Will you? You might get to like me a little
bit in time, and it would not be quite so lonely."

"I can imagine things less impossible. You are a good child; but
remember, Mollie, my liking or not liking has nothing to do with my
choice of an heir. The condition to which I referred might easily apply
to one who appealed to me in no other way. It is only right to warn
you."

But the listener took no heed of the warning. Her face was one radiant
beam of delight.

"You called me `Mollie'!" she cried. "It was the very first time! That
really does sound as if we were going to be friends?"

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

MR. FARRELL MAKES HIS WILL.

It was not