spirits, and left his friend in deep thought,
who did not so much recoil from it as he would
have done before, but looked at it calmly, and
even weighed it. ln the weighing, too, the
news that had reached him of the coming
marriage did its part. " Why should I," he said to
himself, bitterly, " go on and be guilty of the
folly of making myself an eternal monument of
Self-sacrifice, when it is not in fashion anywhere
else? It is making myself absurd, and will only
amuse others. It is time that I should begin
to live." Then he thought with pleasure of the
picture, mechanically but skilfully coloured by
the captain's fingers. And he felt a sympathy
and kindness to the girl who had been so true
and " natural" in her devotion. " After all, the
world has some people who care for me," he
thought. Then he went back to that coming
marriage. "God help her " he said. " But
she is sensible, and knows her own course."
This reasoning and train of thought was spread
over many days. He thought he must take the
first opportunity of thanking his preserver.

The first opportunity was two days later.
They were in their modest room, working, as
the pale, ill-looking figure entered. The girl,
whom rest had a little restored after her
labours, felt herself glowing with almost a
"lake" colour as this visitor entered. Mr.
Tillotson had come back to his old easy and almost
indifferent manner. "This is the first visit I
have paid," he said, " and it certainly should
be the first. What its poor value may be——"

"We are so glad to see you restored," the
elder one said. The younger was still glowing
and flaming. " Uncle, and we all, were so
anxious."

"I meet nothing but goodness," said Mr.
Tillotson, earnestly and sincerely, " and I am
sure I don't know why. I have led a cold
unproductive life ; useful to no one, interesting to
no one, profitable to no one, and therefore why
any one should care whether I lived or died, is
a mystery to me."

They said nothing. A milliner or work-
woman came at this moment, and the elder girl,
who represented industry in the house, got up
to meet her. The younger half got up in a
sort of alarm, but sat down again quickly.

"I am not deserving of this sympathy," he
said to her. " I have heard the whole story of
your kindness, and I have hastened to acknowledge
it. I have been thinking over it these two
days, and it has affected me more than I know
how to express. I have long lost that art, and,
I suppose, must be content to appear ungracious.
But I am grateful, and I hope to be able to
learn to show it."

The young girl lifted her soft eyes and burning
cheeks towards his face. " It was nothing,"
she said, eagerly; " you say far too much of it;
and—and I was so glad to have done it—oh,
and so glad that you are well!" Then she
became ashamed of this burst, and the confusion,
from this opposition of shame and enthusiasm,
had a very pretty effect.

"If I had some way of showing how I feel,
and what I feel to you," he went on, " and to
Captain Diamond," he added, hastily—" I should
be quite glad, if I could only discover some
way."

With much hesitation, first being about to
speak, then checking herself, she at last said,
hurriedly, " If you would only make me — that
is, us—a little promise — one little promise—as
a sort of votive offering on your being restored
to health."

"I shall, indeed," he said, smiling, " whatever
it may turn out to be.

"It is," she went on, " to—to take a little
more interest in life, to enjoy the world a little —
and believe this, that there are those who like,
and who are willing to like and esteem you — in
short, to try and be a little happy. Oh, if you
would do this—and if you were to try you would
succeed — you would make uncle and us all so
glad!"

She was colouring again, and confused at the
boldness of this speech. Hermit, Trappist,
almost Stylites at his heart, as Mr. Tillotson
had tried to be, it was impossible not to be a
little warmed at this natural ardour and candour.
He spoke to her more warmly than he had done
to any one for years. " I promise you," he
said ; " and I shall try."

Uncle Diamond came in at this point. He
noticed her glowing face of pleasure, and a sort
of gladness also in Mr. Tillotson's eyes. He
was delighted himself. "This is something,"
he said, limping over for a chair. "Oh, this is
grand! We shall soon have you on your legs
altogether, Tillotson. Now, I tell you what ;
you'll stop and take your bit of dinner with us,
won't you?"

"No, no," said the other; " not to-day."

"Never fear, we shall take care of you. Do,
now; just to oblige us—just to celebrate the
recovery!"

"Another day," said Mr. Tillotson, rising
hastily.

The girl now spoke. " I thought you had
made us a sort of promise about the world?
And this is the way you will begin!"

A faint shade of impatience came over Mr.
Tillotson's face. " It does not suit me," he said.
"I cannot as yet, you know. I know it seems
ungracious, but——"

He saw a wounded expression on her face,
and that she was biting her red lips in what
seemed vexation. In a moment he had thought
of the precious service she had rendered him,
her little chivalrous act, and felt that he was
ungracious and ungrateful. He sat down again.
"I think I must stay."

Joy came suddenly into both faces, like a fire
that has been stirred. " Give me the hand,"
said uncle Diamond. " You are a good fellow,
and we'll make a day of it, and a night of it
too." This brave, gentle captain had, all his life
long, been " making days of it" for other people,
and delighted in nothing so much.

On this day he was in surprising spirits.
He went out himself to cater. He chose "a
fine fish," a thing for which he had a great