'Well, I daresay--but can't a man change his mind? Greek be hanged!' thundered the impatient voice. 'I want some conversation with you--if you will allow me?' The last words slipped awkwardly into another note. It was as though a man should exchange the trombone for the flute. Elizabeth held her peace; but her pulse was beginning to quicken. 'The fact is,' said the Squire, 'I have been thinking over a good many things--in the last hour.' Then he turned upon her abruptly. 'What was that you were saying to Alice in the hall just now, about moving your mother into better rooms?' Elizabeth's parted lips showed her surprise. 'We do want better rooms for her,' she said hesitatingly, after a moment. 'My sister Joan, who is at home just now, is looking out. But they are not easy to find.' 'Don't look out!' said the Squire impetuously. 'I have a better plan to propose to you. In these horrible days people must co-operate and combine. I know many instances of families sharing a house--and servants. Beastly, I admit, in the case of a small house. One runs up against people--and then one hates them. I do! But in the case of a large house it is different. Now, what do you say to this? Bring your mother here!' 'Bring--my mother--here?' repeated Elizabeth stupidly. 'I don't understand.' 'It's very simple.' The Squire stood over her, his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets, his eyes all vivacity. 'This is a big house--an old barn, if you like, but big enough. Your mother might have the whole of the east wing--which looks south--if she pleased; and neither she nor I need ever come in each other's way, any more than people who have flats in the same building. I heard you say she had a nurse. Well, there would be the nurse--and another servant perhaps. And the housekeeping could be in common. Now do consider it. Be reasonable! Don't mock at it, because it isn't your own plan,' said the Squire severely, perceiving the smile, which she could not repress, spreading over Elizabeth's countenance. 'It's awfully good of you!' she began warmly--'but--' 'But what?' Then Elizabeth's smile vanished, and instead he saw a dimness in the clear blue eyes. 'My poor little mother is too ill--much too ill--' she said in a low voice. 'She may live a good while yet; but her mind is no longer clear.' The Squire was checked. This possible aspect of the case had not occurred to him. But he was not to be defeated. 'If you can move her from one house to another, surely you could move her here--in an invalid motor? It would only take an hour and a half.' Elizabeth shook her head quietly, but decidedly. 'Thank you, but I am afraid it is impossible. She couldn't take the journey, and--no, indeed, it is out of the question!' 'Will you ask your doctor?' said the Squire obstinately. 'I know what he would say. Please don't think of it, Mr. Mannering. It's very, very good of you.'