e. Would you, could you take Ella with
you? I know it is a great, a too great thing to ask. But I would not
have her in any one's way. I am going to write to Mrs. Wills, at the
school where I was, and Ella's means are quite enough to keep her
there, holidays and all, till Leonard can give her a home. It will be
much better for her, and a relief to Henry; and it will be giving back
one--one to Leonard! It will be one thing more that I shall be happy
about.'

Tom had let her go on with her short gentle sentences, because he knew
not how to answer; but at last she said, 'Forgive me, and do not think
of it, if I have asked what I ought not, or would be troublesome.'

Troublesome! no, indeed! I was only thinking--if it might not be
better managed,' he answered, rather by way of giving himself time to
debate whether the utterance of the one thought in his heart would lead
to his being driven away.

'Pray do not propose Leonard's coming for her! He must come to this
feverish place in spring. And if he came, and I were not here, and
Henry not wanting him! Oh no, no; do not let me think of his coming!'

'Averil,' he said, kneeling on one knee so as to be nearer, and to be
able to speak lower, 'you are so unearthly in your unselfishness, that
I dare the less to put before you the one way in which I could take
Ella home to him. It is if you would overlook the past, and give me a
brother's right in them both.'

She turned in amazement to see if she had heard aright. He had removed
his glasses, and the deep blue expressive eyes so seldom plainly
visible were wistfully, pleadingly, fixed on her, brimming over with
the dew of earnestness. Her face of inquiry gave him courage to go on,
'If you would only let me, I think I could bring you home to see him;
and if you would believe it and try, I believe I could make you
happier,' and with an uncontrollable shake in his voice he ceased--and
only looked.

She sat upright, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes shut, trying to
collect her thoughts; and the silence lasted for several seconds. At
last she said, opening her eyes, but gazing straight before her, not at
him, 'I do not think I ought. Do you really know what you are saying?
You know I cannot get well.'

'I know,' he said. 'All I ask is, to tend and watch over you while I
may, to bring you home to Leonard, and to be Ella's brother.'

His voice was still and low, and he laid his hand on her folded ones
with r