The sight of little Lizzie often stirred in Janet’s mind a sense of the childlessness which had made a fatal blank in her life.  She had fleeting thoughts that perhaps among her husband’s distant relatives there might be some children whom she could help to bring up, some little girl whom she might adopt; and she promised herself one day or other to hunt out a second cousin of his—­a married woman, of whom he had lost sight for many years.

But at present her hands and heart were too full for her to carry out that scheme.  To her great disappointment, her project of settling Mrs. Pettifer at Holly Mount had been delayed by the discovery that some repairs were necessary in order to make the house habitable, and it was not till September had set in that she had the satisfaction of seeing her old friend comfortably installed, and the rooms destined for Mr. Tryan looking pretty and cosy to her heart’s content.  She had taken several of his chief friends into her confidence, and they were warmly wishing success to her plan for inducing him to quit poor Mrs. Wagstaff’s dingy house and dubious cookery.  That he should consent to some such change was becoming more and more a matter of anxiety to his hearers; for though no more decided symptoms were yet observable in him than increasing emaciation, a dry hacking cough, and an occasional shortness of breath, it was felt that the fulfilment of Mr. Pratt’s prediction could not long be deferred, and that this obstinate persistence in labour and self-disregard must soon be peremptorily cut short by a total failure of strength.  Any hopes that the influence of Mr. Tryan’s father and sister would prevail on him to change his mode of life—­that they would perhaps come to live with him, or that his sister at least might come to see him, and that the arguments which had failed from other lips might be more persuasive from hers—­were now quite dissipated.  His father had lately had an attack of paralysis, and could not spare his only daughter’s tendance.  On Mr. Tryan’s return from a visit to his father, Miss Linnet was very anxious to know whether his sister had not urged him to try change of air.  From his answers she gathered that Miss Tryan wished him to give up his curacy and travel, or at least go to the south Devonshire coast.

‘And why will you not do so?’ Miss Linnet said; ’you might come back to us well and strong, and have many years of usefulness before you.’

‘No,’ he answered quietly, ’I think people attach more importance to such measures than is warranted.  I don’t see any good end that is to be served by going to die at Nice, instead of dying amongst one’s friends and one’s work.  I cannot leave Milby—­at least I will not leave it voluntarily.’