fly that had settled
on the mare's neck.

"Lucy is about twenty-seven, is she not?"

"Yes, some eight years younger than I am. Why do you ask, John?"

"Because it is always a restless age for a woman. She has lost the
protecting ignorance of youth and she has not yet gained enough of the
experience of age to steady her. Marriage often comes as a
balance-weight. She is coming home to be married, isn't she?"

"No; they are to be married in Geneva at his mother's."

"I think that part of it is a mistake," he said in a decided tone.
"There is no reason why she should not be married here; she owes that
to you and to herself." Then he added in a gentler tone, "And this
worries you?"

"More than I can tell you, John." There was a note in her voice that
vibrated through him. He knew now how seriously the situation affected
her.

"But why, Jane? If Lucy is happier in it we should do what we can to
help her."

"Yes, but not in this way. This will make her all the more miserable. I
don't want this marriage; I want her to come home and live with me and
Archie. She makes me promises every year to come, and now it is over
six years since I left her and she has always put me off. This marriage
means that she will never come. I want her here, John. It is not right
for her to live as she does. Please think as I do!"

The doctor patted Jane's hand--it was the only mark of affection he
ever allowed himself--not in a caressing way, but more as a father
would pat the hand of a nervous child.

"Well, let us go over it from the beginning. Maybe I don't know all the
facts. Have you the letter with you?"

She handed it to him. He passed the reins to her and read it carefully
to the end.

"Have you answered it yet?"

"No, I wanted to talk to you about it. What do you think now?"

"I can't see that it will make any difference. She is not a woman to
live alone. I have always been surprised that she waited so long. You
are wrong, Jane, about this. It is best for everybody and everything
that Lucy should be married."

"John, dear," she said in a half-pleading tone--there were some times
when this last word slipped out--"I don't want this marriage at all. I
am so wretched about it that I feel like taking the first steamer and
bringing her home with me. She will forget all about him when she is
here; and it is only her loneliness that makes her want to marry. I
don't want her married; I want her to love me and Martha
and--Archie--