"I felt troubled, and that has brought on a headache. But don't let us talk about me. I mean, I suppose we must after a little, but not at first." "Whom shall we talk about first? Who is more important? Is it Hinton? You cannot get _me_ to think that Charlotte." "You are more important. I want to talk about you." Now she got hold of his hand, and, turning round, gazed firmly into his face. "Father, you have troubled me. You have caused my headache." Instantly a startled look came into his eyes; and she, reading him now--as, alas! she knew how to do but too well--hastened to soothe it. "You wanted to send me away, to make me less your own, if that were possible. Father, I have come here to-night to tell you that I am not going away--that I am all your own, even to the end." "My own to the end? Yes, you must always be that. But what do you mean?" She felt the hand she held trembling, and hastened to add,-- "Why did you keep the truth from me? Why did you try to deceive me, your nearest and dearest, as to your state of health? But I know it all now. I am not going away from you." "You mean--you mean, Charlotte, you will not marry Hinton next week?" "No, father." "Have you told him?" "Yes." "Charlotte, do you know the worst about me?" "I know all about you. I went to see Sir George Anderson this morning. I forced from him the opinion he has already given to you. He says that I cannot keep you long. But while I can, we will never part." Mr. Harman's hand had now ceased to tremble. It lay warm and quiet in his daughter's clasp. After a time he said-- "Put your arms round me darling." She rose to her feet, clasped her hands round his neck, and laid her head on his shoulder. In this position he kissed first her bright hair, then her cheek and brow. "But I want my little girl to leave me," he said. "Illness need not make me selfish. You can still be my one only dear daughter, and yet be Hinton's wife." "I am your only dear daughter," she repeated. "Never mind about my being any man's wife." She tried to smile as she resumed her seat at his feet. Mr. Harman saw the attempt at a smile, and it instantly strengthened him to proceed. "Charlotte, I am not sorry that you know that which I had not courage either to tell you or to cause another to tell you. I am--yes, I am dying. Some day before long I must leave you, my darling. I must go away and return no more. But before I die I want to see you Hinton's wife. It will make me happier to see this, for you love him, and he can make you happy. You do love him, Charlotte?" "Yes, I love him," she answered. "Then we will not postpone the marriage. My child shall marry the man she loves, and have the strength of his love in the dark days that must follow; and in one week you will be back with me, no less my child because you are Hinton's wife." "Father, I cannot." "Not if I wish it, dear--if I have set my heart on it?" "I cannot," she repeated.