"Have you anything definite in your mind?" he hesitated, timidly.

The Colonel reflected. On his part he was wondering how Porson would
receive the suggestion of a substantial loan. It seemed too much
to risk. He was proud, and did not like to lay himself open to the
possibility of rebuff.

"I think not, John. Unless Morris should chance to make a good marriage,
which is unlikely, for, as you know, he is an odd fish, I can see
nothing before us except ruin. Indeed, at my age, it does not greatly
matter, but it seems a pity that the old house should come to an end in
such a melancholy and discreditable fashion."

"A pity! It is more than a pity," jerked out Porson, with a sudden
wriggle which caused him to rock up and down upon the stiff springs of
the new sofa.

As he spoke there came a knock at the door, and from the further side of
it a slow, rich voice was heard, saying: "May I come in?"

"That's Mary," said Mr. Porson. "Yes, come in, dear; it's only your
uncle."

The door opened, Mary came in, and, in some curious quiet way, at once
her personality seemed to take possession of and dominate that shaded
room. To begin with, her stature gave an idea of dominion, for, without
being at all coarse, she was tall and full in frame. The face also was
somewhat massive, with a rounded chin and large, blue eyes that had a
trick of looking half asleep, and above a low, broad forehead grew her
waving, golden hair, parted simply in the middle after the old Greek