in the eyes of Marian, compared with the horror of marrying that
pale-faced mean-looking little man, whom she had seen once or twice
sitting by the fire in the oak parlour, with his small light-grey eyes
fixed in a dull stare upon the bailiff's daughter.




CHAPTER XVIII.

JACOB NOWELL'S WILL.


At his usual hour, upon the evening after his arrival in London, Gilbert
Fenton called at the silversmith's shop in Queen Anne's Court. He found
Jacob Nowell weaker than when, he had seen him last, and with a strange
old look, as if extreme age had come upon him suddenly. He had been
compelled to call in a medical man, very much against his will; and this
gentleman had told him that his condition was a critical one, and that it
would be well for him to arrange his affairs quickly, and to hold himself
prepared for the worst.

He seemed to be slightly agitated when Gilbert told him that his
granddaughter had been found.

"Will she come to me, do you think?" he asked.

"I have no doubt that she will do so, directly she hears how ill you have
been. She was very much pleased at the idea of seeing you, and only
waited for her husband's permission to come. But I don't suppose she will