"I want to speak to her alone," said Lucian, "our parting has always stung her. It's bad for her to look back on; I think I can make it better. You'll manage it, won't you?" "If it's not too much for you, I will try." "I've got it to do," said Lucian. "Get her to come by herself; I know what I want to say." "Well," said Sylvester, "I'll try--when you are feeling strong enough." "To-morrow then." He paused a moment and looked at Sylvester, and then said distinctly--"She is not the least bit in love with _me_ now, you know, Syl." "Oh, my dear boy," said Sylvester, hurriedly, "all this is very bad for you. Even for her sake, I can't bear to have you distress yourself. It is so hard for you." "Why, Syl, I don't feel enough like living, to mind as much as you suppose. Of course sometimes,"--he paused again, then smiled a little--"I know better than she does now, about a good many things.--Oh, I'm bad to-day! Lift me, Syl. A change makes it easier." Sylvester did what he could to mitigate the attack of pain which followed, glad that Lucian did not try to hide it from him, as he too often did from his mother. He did not see how to manage the interview without Mrs Leigh's co-operation, and decided to tell her of Lucian's wish. She gave him a look which went to his heart; for in it was the acknowledgment of all which she could not bring her tongue to utter. "I leave it to you," she said, "he must have his own way now." Sylvester went straight to Amethyst and asked her to come at a given time, and to let Lucian say to her whatever he would. She looked at him for a moment, and he could see that she shrank from such a meeting, but she only said-- "I will come." "Thank you," said Sylvester; "he has set his heart on it." She looked, as she stood silent, as if with another word her self-control would break down into passionate grief, but the moment passed, and she recovered her usual manner, as she repeated her promise to come to-morrow morning. Her troubled look dwelt in Sylvester's mind. Had the old love woke again in tender pity, and were they breaking her heart once more with this recall of the past? But this time Sylvester did not understand her, and tormented himself in vain. She came on the next day, punctual to the moment, very grave and quiet, and perfectly calm. Lucian had been resting all the morning, and now lay on his couch under the verandah, while Mrs Leigh greeted Amethyst, and set a chair for her close by, within easy reach of his eyes and voice, then with hardly a word she left them. "Amethyst," said Lucian, "you know I'm going to die, and you, I suppose, will have a long life. I want to take the pain out of your thoughts of me, so that when you think of those days when we were engaged to each other, it may be pleasant to you, as if we'd had a good time when we were children." Amethyst looked at him, but she could not speak.