lot to fret about," she said. "Don't you fret about money,
Sandro. I can manage a thousand in a month or so. No use hoarding it; it
looks as if we should neither of us want it long."

"You've got a thousand? What, now? Available?"

"In a week or so it could be."

"Then in God's name put it in the Alethea. What are you thinking about?
It's the biggest thing out."

"In the Alethea? I meant to give it to you."

"All right. I shall put it in, if you do. I tell you that in three years'
time you'll be rich out of it, and I shall draw an income of a couple of
thousand a year at least as long as the patent lasts, if not longer."

"How long does it last?"

"Fourteen years; then we'll try for an extension, for another seven, you
know, and we ought to get it. First and last I expect to get fifty
thousand out of the Alethea alone, besides another thing that I've talked
over with Mandeville. I'll tell you about it some day, I can't to-day.
I--I'm a little tired. But anyhow the Alethea's sure. I'll put the
thousand into it for you, and I'll hand you back double the money this
time next year."

He was leaning on his left elbow, talking volubly; his eyes were bright,
his right hand moved in rapid apt gestures; his voice was sanguine as he
spoke of the seven years' extension of the Alethea patent; he had
forgotten his stroke and the verdict of his doctors. Aunt Maria nodded
her head to him, saying, "I'll send it you as soon as I can," and made
for the door. She was smiling now; Sandro seemed more himself again. He,
left alone, lay back on his pillow, breathing fast, rather exhausted; but
after awhile he opened the engagement-book again and ran his eyes up and
down its columns. Lady Mildmay found him thus occupied when she came to
give him a cup of milk.

CHAPTER XVIII.

FOR LACK OF LOVE?

Weston Marchmont, punctilious to the verge of fastidiousness, or even
over it, in his conduct towards the world and his friends, allowed
himself easily enough a liberty of speculative opinion which the Dean of
St. Neot's would have hesitated about and the Dean's wife decidedly
veiled by a reference to Providence. To him the blow that had fallen on
Quisante seemed no public evil. Allowing the man's talents, he distrusted
both his aims and his methods; they would not have come to good; the
removal of his personality meant relief from an influence which was not
healthy and an exam