peak to you."

"Geoff is not like other boys," she said, with a nervous laugh, still
standing with her back to the light. "He does not rejoice in a holiday
like most children; you have made him love his work."

"It is not about Geoff," he said. "I have--something to say to you, if
you will hear me. I--cannot be silent any longer."

"Oh," she said, "you are going to tell me--I know what it is you are
going to say--that this cannot continue. I knew that must come sooner
or later. Mr. Warrender, you don't need to be told how grateful I am; I
thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have done so much for us. It
was clear that it could not--go on for ever." She put out her hand for
her chair, and drew it closer, and sat down, still with her back to the
window; and now even in his preoccupation with his own overwhelming
excitement he saw that she trembled a little, and that there was
agitation in her tone.

"Lady Markland, it is not that. It is more than that. The moment has
come when I must--when I cannot keep it up any longer. Ah!" for she made
a little movement with her hand as if to impose silence. "Must it be
so? must I go unheard?" He came closer to her, holding out his hands
in the eloquence of nature, exposing his agitated countenance to the
full revelation of the light. "It is not much, is it, in return for a
life--only to be allowed to speak, once: for half an hour, for five
minutes--once--and then to be silent." Here he paused for breath--still
holding out his hands in a silent appeal. "But if that is my sentence I
will accept it," he said.

"Oh, Mr. Warrender, do not speak so. Your sentence! from me, that am so
deeply in your debt, that never can repay--but I know you never thought
of being repaid."

"You will repay me now, tenfold, if you will let me speak."

She put out her hand towards a chair, pointing him to it, and gave him
an agitated smile. "Of course you shall speak, whatever you wish or
please--as if to your mother, or your elder sister, or an old, old
friend."

She put up this little barrier of age instinctively, hastily snatching
at the first defensive object she could find. And he sat down as she
bade him, but now that he had her permission said nothing,--nothing with
his tongue, but with his clasped hands and with his eyes so much, that
she covered hers with an involuntary movement, and uttered a little
agitated cry. For the moment he was incapable of anything more.

"Mr. Warrender," sh