‘And do you like him, Nell? Will he be kind to you?’ said Ilfracombe. He would have liked to see her respectably married, for whilst she lived as she was doing now she was a constant reproach to him, but, like all his sex, though unwilling to accept the responsibility himself, he did not _quite_ like the idea of any other man possessing what had been his. But he stamped down the feeling. It would decidedly be for the best, he said to himself. ‘Does he love you? Would he be good to you?’ he repeated anxiously. ‘He _says_ he loves me,’ she answered slowly, ‘and I shall take good care he is not unkind to me.’ ‘A man would be a brute who could be unkind to you’ said the earl, with deep feeling in his voice, ‘Nell, I think that your illness has made you more beautiful than ever. It has refined your whole appearance. But this man--I am glad he is a gentleman; you are not fit to be the wife of a clown, and you can hold your own with any lady in the land.’ ‘So you advise me to marry him,’ she said, raising her large liquid eyes to his face. Ilfracombe remembered afterwards how much they looked like the eyes of a dumb animal that regard you patiently, never mind what pain you may be putting it to, but at the time he only saw their pathetic beauty. ‘My dear girl,’ he replied, drawing nearer to her, and taking her hand in his; ‘how can I do otherwise than advise you to accept this proposal, that is if the fellow has enough to keep you in a decent position of life. It is hard for a woman to fight the world alone, Nell. You are very beautiful, and the world will look kindly on you whilst you remain so; but beauty does not last for ever, and when the evil days of old age and perhaps penury come, it is well for a woman if she is an honoured and respected wife. You know I must feel very deeply on this subject, for the reason that _I_, in my reckless thoughtlessness, have done so much to mar your prospects of making a good marriage; but if I find that, spite of all, you _do_ marry well, I shall be a very grateful and a very happy man,’ ‘If I knew that you would have no regrets,’ said Nell, with white parched lips; ‘if I were sure that you loved your wife, and she loved you--’