“Ah!” said Sir Gus, with a blank air of surprise like a man suddenly stopped by a blank wall. He made a dead stop and looked at her, then resumed. “I have taken a resolution, Lady Markham. I think I never ought to have come here; at all events it has not done me very much good, has it, nor any one else? And I daren’t face another winter. I think I should die. Perhaps if I had married and that sort of thing it might have been better. It is too late to think of that now.” “Why too late?” said Lady Markham. Her heart had begun to beat loudly; but she would not be outdone in generosity, and indeed nothing had been more kind than poor Gus. She determined to fight his battle against himself. “Why too late? You must not think so. You will not find the second winter so hard as the first--and as for marrying----” “Yes, that’s out of the question, Lady Markham; and at first I never meant to, because of Paul. So here is what I am going to do. You heard what old Aunt Katie said. The old house is for sale again; the old place where she was born and I was born, my uncle’s old place that he had to sell, where I am as well known as Paul is at Markham. I am going back there; don’t say a word. It’s better for me, and better for you, and all of us, I’ll take the old woman with me, and I’ll be as happy as the day is long.” Here Gus gave a little gulp. Lady Markham got up and went towards him with her hand extended in anxious deprecation, though who can tell what a storm was going on in her bosom, of mingled reluctance and expectation--an agitation beyond words. He too raised his hand to keep her silent. T “Don’t say anything,” he said; “I’ve made up my mind; it will be a great deal better. Paul can come back, and I dare say he’ll marry little Dolly. You can say I hope he will, and make her a good husband. And since Fairfax is rich, why that is all right without me. Send for Paul, my lady, and we’ll settle about the money; for I must have money you know. I must have my share. And I’d like to give a sort of legacy to the little girls. They’re fond of me, really, those two children, they are now, though you might not think it.” “We are all fond of you,” said Lady Markham, with tears. “Well, perhaps that is too much to expect; but you have all been very kind. Send for Paul, and make him bring the lawyer, and we’ll get it all settled. I shall go out by the next steamer,” said Sir Gus, after a little pause, recovering his usual tone. “No more of this cold for me. I shall be king at Gavestonville, as Paul will be here. I don’t think, Lady Markham, I have anything more to say.” “But,” she cried clinging to her duty. “_But_--I don’t know what to say to you. Gus--Gus!” “I have made up my mind,” said the little gentleman with great dignity, and after that there was not another word to say.