As a matter of fact it was a quarter to four when the brick-dust coloured envelope was put into Aura's hands, but she was still looking at it with a certain scare in her eyes and a certain flutter at her heart when Ted came down from her grandfather's room at four o'clock. Of course she knew who had sent it. No one but Ned would have thought of anything at once so consoling and so disturbing. To rise from earth and "sing hymns at heaven's gate" was quite in order; but how about the "Haply I think on thee"? "What's that?" asked Ted kindly, as he sat down beside her on the sofa, which had been imported into the bare, empty room for the invalid's use. "Anything I can do?" That again was so like him; always thinking of material help in everything. "Nothing," she replied, hurriedly crumpling up the paper, and thrusting it under the sofa cushion. "Nothing, at least of any consequence." She was wearing the diamonds now, and they flashed on her finger, bringing the sunburn brown of her hand into greater prominence. "You look worried, Ted," she went on. "You don't think grandfather is worse, do you? He was very disturbed, I know, but----" Ted shook his head. "Not worse, certainly. I left him asleep. Besides, the doctor says there is no immediate danger of any sort. But I am worried. The fact is, my darling"--his arm was round her, but not too aggressively, for, in truth, though he loved her dearly, his world held many other interests besides love--"this sort of thing cannot go on. This is the third time I have been sent for since the New Year. I don't grudge it, dearest, one bit. There is always the joy of seeing you; but if Hirsch hadn't been kindness itself I couldn't have managed it. And it doesn't really do the dear old man any good. Here he is to-day fretting himself ill about my having to go away, about our being married. So I was wondering, dearest----" "Yes, Ted," she put in calmly. Ted took his arm away, and sat resting his head in his hands and looking vexedly into the fire. "It is a good deal to ask of us--especially to ask of you," he went on; "but you see I must go off this evening, so it wouldn't make any real difference, since we are bound indissolubly to each other as it is--aren't we?" He took her left hand and kissed the diamond ring as he spoke. "Of course we are," she assented. "Go on, Ted." "So--if you will consent--I could fetch the rector--he is a surrogate, I find; but, as a matter of fact, I got the license at Blackborough--and we could be married before I go. Don't look so startled, my dearest! It shan't be if you don't wish it. And I hate asking for it, only I believe it would really quiet the dear old man, and give him a better chance--and me too, of course, for this sort of thing is a little--just a little--well! limiting. And, as I say, it would make no difference--except perhaps that I should find it harder than ever to leave my wife."