since her father sinned against her as he sinned in another
way against me, but I can--through my daughter, who is guided by
me--give her an income. It does not seem right that I should have all
this money--"

"That your daughter should have all this money," interpolated Beecot.

"My daughter and I are one," replied Mrs. Krill, calmly; "when I speak
for myself, I speak for her. But, as I say, it doesn't seem right we
should be in affluence and Miss Norman in poverty. So I propose to allow
her five hundred a year--on conditions. Will she accept, do you think,
Mr. Beecot?"

"I should think her acceptance would depend upon the conditions."

"They are very simple," said Mrs. Krill in her deep tones, and looking
very straightly at Paul. "She is to marry you and go to America."

Beecot's face did not change, since her hard eyes were on it. But he was
puzzled under his mask of indifference. Why did this woman want Sylvia
to marry him, and go into exile? He temporized. "With regard to your
wish that Miss Norman should marry me," said he, quietly, "it is of
course very good of you to interest yourself in the matter. I fail to
understand your reason, however."

"Yet the reason is patent," rejoined Mrs. Krill, just as quietly and
quite as watchful as before. "Sylvia Norman is a young girl without much
character----"

"In that I disagree with you."

"Well, let us admit she has character, but she certainly has no
experience. In the world, she is exposed to much trouble and, perhaps,
may be, to temptation. Since her position is the fault of her father,
and she is entirely innocent, I want her to have a happy life. For that
reason I wish her to marry you."

Paul bowed, not believing a word of this philanthropic speech. "Again, I
say it is good of you," said he with some irony; "but even were I out of
the way, her nurse, Deborah Tawsey, would look after her. As matters
stand, however, she will certainly become my wife as soon as we can
afford a home."

"You can afford it to-morrow," said Mrs. Krill, eagerly, "if you will
accept my offer."

"A home in America," said Paul, "and why?"

"I should think both of you would like to be away from a place where you
have seen such a tragedy."

"Indeed." Paul committed himself to no opinion. "And, supposing we
accept your offer, which I admit is a generous one, you suggest we
should go to the States."

"Or to Canada, or Australia, or--in fact--you can go anywhere, so long
as you