ast night I
thought I saw you and _her_, and what you ought to do seemed to grow
plain to me. Dear Eustace, don't let anything I say now ever be a burden
to you--don't let it fetter you ever--but it is so strong in me you must
let me say it all. She is not in love with you, Eustace--at least, I
think not. She has never thought of you in that way; but there is
everything there which ought to lead to love. You interest her deeply;
the thought of you stands to her as the symbol of all she wants to reach;
and then she knows what you have been to all those who trusted you. She
knows that you are good and true. I want you to try and carry it farther
for her sake and yours.' He looked up and would have spoken, but she put
her soft hand over his mouth. 'Wait one moment. Those about her are not
people to make her happy--at any time if things went wrong--if she broke
down--she would be at their mercy. Then her position--you know what
difficulties it has--it makes my heart ache sometimes to think of it. She
won my love so. I felt like a mother to her. I long to have her here now,
but I would not let Paul send; and if I could think of her safe with
you--in those true hands of yours. Oh, you will try, darling?' He
answered her huskily and brokenly, laying his face to hers on the pillow.

'I would do anything you asked. But she is so likely to love and marry.
Probably there is some one--already. How could it not be with her beauty
and her fame? Anybody would be proud to marry her, and she has such a
quick eager nature.

'There is no one!' said Marie, with deep conviction in the whispered
words. 'Her life has been too exciting--too full of one interest. She
stayed with me; I got to know her to the bottom. She would not have
hidden it. Only say you will make one trial and I should be content.'

And then her innate respect for another's individuality, her shrinking
from what might prove to be the tyranny of a dying wish interposed, and
she checked herself. 'No, don't promise; I have no right--no one has any
right. I can only tell you my feeling--my deep sense that there is
hope--that there is nothing against you. Men--good men--are so often
over-timid when courage would be best. Be bold, Eustace; respect your
own love; do not be too proud to show it--to offer it!' Her voice died
away into silence, only Eustace still felt the caressing touch of the
thin fingers clasped round his. It seemed to him as if the life still
left in her were o