"I am glad," she said simply, her deep eyes shining. "You don't know how glad I am, if I have helped you ever so little. And, some day--I am speaking very plainly because I am a dying woman, and dying people can speak the direct truth--some day I want you to give a woman your heart; I want you to take her hands in your hands; I want you to find the happiness, which, for my sake, you have missed in all these years." "Impossible," he said passionately. "You are asking too much. How could I ever think of another woman, when I have been your friend?" "Some day," she answered, her wonderful smile flashing over her face; "and--I am developing into a matchmaker, Rupert," she added lightly. "I have even chosen the woman. You did not credit me with gifts as a matchmaker, did you?" "Don't talk of such things in such a way," he exclaimed almost roughly. "How can you laugh and talk lightly, when----" "When I ought to be thinking only of 'graves and epitaphs'?" she quoted whimsically. "No, don't look so hurt and sorry. Let me still be whimsical, even if I am going to die. Leave me my sense of humour to the end. And--let me match-make for you. It pleases me to picture you--happy--with--a wife I have chosen for you." "Don't," he said, actual anger in his voice, but once again her hand touched his hand, and the touch quieted him. "You must not be hurt or angry with me," she said. "I asked you to come to see me, because I wanted to thank you for your loyal friendship and a sort of instinct made me long to tell you--of someone--who some day I think will comfort you." "Comfort me?" he exclaimed bitterly. "Yes, comfort you," eyes and voice were very steady. "Rupert, you know--of course you know--all about my little niece, my dear little niece Christina? You know by what a strange coincidence I discovered who she was, and you know how Arthur found all the proofs of identity, and showed beyond the possibility of doubt, that she is the daughter of my own sister Helen? You know all that?" "Yes, I know all that. I have often seen Miss Moore; she is a very charming girl, and I liked her for insisting on staying with Baba for the present, so that Cicely should not be left stranded. It seemed to show grit, and a fine character." "She has grit, and a fine character. She has more; she has a most lovable character; and, Rupert, she would make a man who cared for her, a most tender and loving wife." "A man who cared for her," Rupert repeated with emphasis; "not a man whose whole heart was given to another woman." "Some day--when the other woman--has gone--right away--remember what I said. That is all. It is not a thing to be discussed, even between two friends. Only--remember that my little Christina is worthy to be loved. She has a sweet and a strong soul."