“She is not at all times.”

“How far must I consider her, or be guided by the effect my decision will have on her?  There are my partners to consider.  The money does not influence me—­it is Ann—­Ann.”  Then she knew that he would make any sacrifice necessary to set Ann Penhallow at ease.  “I think,” she said as she rose, “that we had better go to bed.”

“I suppose so,” he said.  “Wait a moment.  Your aunt told me that I had better go where there was war—­she could not have guessed that I have lived for months with that temptation.  I shall end by accepting a command.  Now since her reproach I shall feel that war offers the bribe of ease and relief from care.”

“I know, the call of duty—­you will have to go.  But, oh, my God! it is very terrible.”

“The fact is, this sudden good fortune for a time so set me at ease that I lost sight of my honest craving for action.  Now I ought to thank Ann for making me see what I ought to do—­must do.  But how—­how?  It will clear up somehow.  Goodnight.”

It was the end of March before McGregor told Penhallow that Mrs. Penhallow insisted on seeing him.  “Now, Squire,” he said, “you will be shocked at her appearance, but she is really well in body, and this thing has got to be set at rest.  She talks of it incessantly.”

Penhallow entered the dimly lighted room and passed his old nurse, Mrs. Lamb, as she whispered, “Don’t stay long, sir.”  He was shocked as he won clearer vision in the dim light.

“Oh, James!” she said, “they wouldn’t let me see you.  Open the shutters.”  He obeyed, and kneeling kissed the wasted face he loved so well.  The commonplaces of life came to his aid as he kissed her again, and she said, “Dear me, James, you haven’t shaved to-day.”

“No, I am going to stop at the barber’s—­but I miss Josiah.”

She smiled.  “Yes, poor Josiah.”

Then he took courage, fearfully timid as men are when they confront the illness of women.  “I want to say to you, Ann, that having your power of attorney I have withdrawn your fifty thousand dollars you had lent to the mills.  My partners were glad to take it.”  He said nothing of their surprise at the offer.

“Thank you,” she returned feebly.  “And you are going on with the business?” her voice rising as she spoke.

“We will talk of that later, Ann.  I was told not to let you talk long.  I shall endeavour to invest your money so as to give you a reasonable return—­it will take time.”

He did not succeed in diverting her attention.  She put out a thin hand and caught his sleeve.  “Do you think me unreasonable, James?”

“Yes,” he said, and it needed courage.

“I was sure you would say so.”  The great blue eyes, larger for the wasted setting of nature’s wonderful jewels, looked up at him in dumb appeal.  “Won’t you think a little of how I feel—­and—­and shall feel?”

“Think a little—­a little?” he returned; “I have done nothing else but think.”