start. "I don't know what I would do if she should
marry."

"That don't sound like you, Miss Jane. You
would be the first to deny yourself. You are too
good to do otherwise." He spoke with a slight quiver
in his voice, and yet with an emphasis that showed
he believed it.

"No; it is you who are good to think so," she
replied in a softer tone, bending her head as she
spoke, her eyes intent on her fan. "And now tell
me," she added quickly, raising her eyes to his as if
to bar any further tribute he might be on the point
of paying to her--"I hear your mother takes greatly
to heart your having refused the hospital appointment."

"Yes, I'm afraid she does. Mother has a good
many new-fashioned notions nowadays." He laughed
--a mellow, genial laugh; more in the spirit of apology
than of criticism.

"And you don't want to go?" she asked, her eyes
fixed on his.

"Want to go? No, why should I? There would
be nobody to look after the people here if I went
away. You don't want me to leave, do you?" he
added suddenly in an anxious tone.