Marian sometimes read to him. He never
requested this, but he did not reject the kindness.

This afternoon Marian found her father examining a volume of prints
which had been lent him by Mr Quarmby. The table was laid for dinner
(owing to Marian's frequent absence at the Museum, no change had been
made in the order of meals), and Yule sat by the window, his book
propped on a second chair. A whiteness in his eyes showed how the
disease was progressing, but his face had a more wholesome colour than a
year ago.

'Mr Hinks and Mr Gorbutt inquired very kindly after you to-day,' said
the girl, as she seated herself.

'Oh, is Hinks out again?'

'Yes, but he looks very ill.'

They conversed of such matters until Mrs Yule--now her own
servant--brought in the dinner. After the meal, Marian was in her
bedroom for about an hour; then she went to her father, who sat in
idleness, smoking.

'What is your mother doing?' he asked, as she entered.

'Some needlework.'

'I had perhaps better say'--he spoke rather stiffly, and with averted
face--'that I make no exclusive claim to the use of this room. As I
can no longer pretend to study, it would be idle to keep up the show
of privacy that mustn't be disturbed. Perhaps you will mention to your
mother that she is quite at liberty to sit here whenever she chooses.'

It was characteristic of him that he should wish to deliver this
permission by proxy. But Marian understood how much was implied in such
an announcement.

'I will tell mother,' she said. 'But at this moment I wished to speak to
you privately. How would you advise me to invest my money?'

Yule looked surprised, and answered with cold dignity.

'It is strange that you should put such a question to me. I should have
supposed your interests were in the hands of--of some competent person.'

'This will be my private affair, father. I wish to get as high a rate of
interest as I safely can.'

'I really must decline to advise, or interfere in any way. But, as you
have introduced this subject, I may as well put a question which is
connected with it. Could you give me any idea as to how long you are
likely to remain with us?'

'At least a year,' was the answer, 'and very likely much longer.'

'Am I to understand, then, that your marriage is indefinitely
postponed?'

'Yes, father.'

'And will you tell me why?'

'I can only say that it has seemed better--to both of us.'

Yule detected the sorrowful emotion she was en