"My aunt is exceedingly anxious that we should not delay on account of her illness, and I don't see that we need. We are both resolved that our wedding shall be as quiet and simple as possible, and really it will be a relief to her mind rather than an anxiety. Therefore, dear, only one thing remains--to fix the day." He did not look at Phillis as he spoke, and two people who glanced into the room thought the pair were a brother and sister bent on enjoying pictures which nobody in his senses could admire. Phillis said after a momentary pause-- "I am afraid that is not all." "Trousseau, and that sort of thing? But surely it can wait for England?" "Something of more consequence," and he noticed a tremor in her voice. "Jack," she went on, "you and I have always been good friends. I hope that will go on; I don't think I could bear to believe that anything could come between us in that. But for the other matter, dear, it has been a mistake, and I thank God that there is yet time to set it right. We are good friends always, remember, but we can be nothing more. I was wrong to consent, and my uncle was wrong to press it, as I think now he did; but he did it for the best, and, as I said, it can be set right." "Phillis!" She put up her hand. "Hush! Spare me any reproaches or entreaties, Jack. If I have done wrong, I will take all the blame, and do my best to set matters right I hesitated for a time because I thought of Hetherton, but I feel almost sure that if I write to my aunt and explain how this is entirely my own doing, Mr Thornton's sense of justice will prevail, and that you will not suffer. But even should it be otherwise, we dare not make that the first consideration, dare we? I am certain that would be your decision." "About Hetherton, yes," said Ibbetson, rising and standing by her chair with much agitation. "But I don't understand you, Phillis! Have you changed or I? What have I done to bring you to such a conclusion? You can't be thinking of all that your words imply. Are you offended with me?" Her eyes, clear and steadfast, answered him, though her voice was shaken. "Not offended. Offence could hardly dome between us. But don't you see, we should not be happy together, we could not marry." "You could not be happy with me. That is what I must understand you to mean," he said with some bitterness. "And I don't know what I have done that you should change your opinion, if, indeed, you ever loved me." If she ever loved him! What but love, tender and true, could have nerved her to the anguish of this moment, of all the moments that were coming! Not love him! She sighed, she had not thought her task would be so hard. "We all make mistakes at times," she said, without answering his reproach, which, indeed, pricked his own conscience as he uttered it. "Let us be thankful, Jack, that this isn't irreparable." "But why--why will you have it to be a mistake?" he asked doggedly.