s that she should trust him--as a good friend, who
had slipped by force of circumstances into a kind of guardian's
position. Accordingly he applied himself to the kind of persuasion that
befits seniority and experience. She had asked to be treated as a normal
person. He proved to her, gently laughing at her, that the claim was
preposterous. Ask her doctor!--ask Hester! As for teaching, time enough
to talk about that when she had a little flesh on her bones, a little
strength in her limbs. She might read, of course; that was what the
couch was for. Lying there by the window she might become as learned as
she liked, and get strong at the same time. He would keep her stocked
with books. The library at Carton was going mouldy for lack of use. And
as for her drawing, he had hoped--perhaps--she might some time take a
lesson--

Then he saw a little shiver run through her.

'Could I?' she said in a low voice, turning her face away. And he
perceived that the bare idea of resuming old pleasures--the pleasures of
her happy, her unwidowed time--was still a shock to her.

'I'm sure it would help'--he said, persevering. 'You have a real turn
for water-colour. You should cultivate it--you should really. In my
belief you might do a great deal better with it than with teaching.'

That roused her. She sat up, her eyes brightening.

'If I _worked_--you really think? And then,' her voice dropped--'if
George came back--'

'Exactly,' he said gravely--'it might be of great use. Didn't you wish
for something normal to do? Well, here's the chance. I can supply you
with endless subjects to copy. There are more in the cottage than you
would get through in six months. And I could send you over portfolios of
my own studies and _academies_, done at Paris, and in the Slade, which
would help you--and sometimes we could take some work out of doors.'

She said nothing, but her sad puzzled eyes, as they wandered over the
garden and the lake, shewed that she was considering it.

Then suddenly her expression changed.

'Isn't that Cicely's voice?' She motioned towards the garden.

'I daresay. I sent on the motor to meet her at Windermere. She's been in
town for two or three weeks, selling at Red Cross Bazaars and things.
And by George!--isn't that Marsworth?'

He sprang up to look, and verified his guess. The tall figure on the
lawn with Cicely and Hester was certainly Marsworth. He and Nelly looked
at each other, and Nelly smiled.

'You know