ng a parental relation with the young people, the rather
delicate business of his making them a regular allowance would become a
natural proceeding.

And so the zealous wishes of the neighbours to give a geometrical shape
to their story were fulfilled almost in spite of the chief parties
themselves. When he put the question to her distinctly, Marcia admitted
that she had always regretted the imperious decision of her youth; and
she made no ado about accepting him.

'I have no love to give, you know, Marcia,' he said. 'But such
friendship as I am capable of is yours till the end.'

'It is nearly the same with me--perhaps not quite. But, like the other
people, I have somehow felt, and you will understand why, that I ought
to be your wife before I die.'

It chanced that a day or two before the ceremony, which was fixed to
take place very shortly after the foregoing conversation, Marcia's
rheumatism suddenly became acute. The attack promised, however, to be
only temporary, owing to some accidental exposure of herself in making
preparations for removal, and as they thought it undesirable to postpone
their union for such a reason, Marcia, after being well wrapped up, was
wheeled into the church in a chair.

* * *

A month thereafter, when they were sitting at breakfast one morning,
Marcia exclaimed 'Well--good heavens!' while reading a letter she had
just received from Avice, who was living with her husband in a house
Pierston had bought for them at Sandbourne.

Jocelyn looked up.

'Why--Avice says she wants to be separated from Henri! Did you ever hear
of such a thing! She's coming here about it to-day.'

'Separated? What does the child mean!' Pierston read the letter.
'Ridiculous nonsense!' he continued. 'She doesn't know what she wants.
I say she sha'n't be separated! Tell her so, and there's an end of it.
Why--how long have they been married? Not twelve months. What will she
say when they have been married twenty years!'

Marcia remained reflecting. 'I think that remorseful feeling she
unluckily has at times, of having disobeyed her mother, and caused her
death, makes her irritable,' she murmured. 'Poor child!'

Lunch-time had hardly come when Avice arrived, looking very tearful and
excited. Marcia took her into an inner room, had a conversation with
her, and they came out together.

'O it's nothing,' said Marcia. 'I tell her she must go back directly she
has had so