Joanna looked almost sentimentally at the couple ahead--then she suddenly made up her mind. "If I spoke to Arthur Alce, I believe I could make him do it." She could make Arthur do most things, and she did not see why he should stop at this. Of course she did not want Ellen to marry him or anybody, but now she had once come to think of it she could see plainly, in spite of herself, that marriage would be a good thing for her sister. She was being forced up against the fact that her schemes for Ellen had failed--school-life had spoiled her, home-life was making both her and home miserable. The best thing she could do would be to marry, but she must marry a good man and true--Alce was both good and true, and moreover his marriage would set Joanna free from his hang-dog devotion, of which she was beginning to grow heartily tired. She appreciated his friendship and his usefulness, but they could both survive, and she would at the same time be free of his sentimental lapses, the constant danger of a declaration. Yes, Ellen should have him--she would make a present of him to Ellen. Sec.13 "Arthur, I want a word with you." They were alone in the parlour, Ellen having been dispatched resentfully on an errand to Great Ansdore. "About them wethers?" "No--it's a different thing. Arthur, have you noticed that Ellen's sweet on you?" Joanna's approach to a subject was ever direct, but this time she seemed to have taken the breath out of Arthur's body. "Ellen ... sweet on me?" he gasped. "Yes, you blind-eyed owl. I've seen it for a dunnamany weeks." "But--Ellen? That liddle girl ud never care an onion for a dull, dry chap lik me." "Reckon she would. You ain't such a bad chap, Arthur, though I could never bring myself to take you." "Well, I must say I haven't noticed anything, or maybe I'd have spoken to you about it. I'm unaccountable sorry, Jo, and I'll do all I can to help you stop it." "I'm not sure I want to stop it. I was thinking only to-day as it wouldn't be a bad plan if you married Ellen." "But, Jo, I don't want to marry anybody but you." "Reckon that's middling stupid of you, for I'll never marry you, Arthur Alce--_never_!" "Then I don't want nobody." "Oh, yes, you do. You'll be a fool if you don't marry and get a wife to look after you and your house, which has wanted new window-blinds this eighteen month. You can't have me, so you may as well have Ellen--she's next best to me, I reckon, and she's middling sweet on you." "Ellen's a dear liddle thing, as I've always said against them that said otherwise--but I've never thought of marrying her, and reckon she don't want to marry me, she'd sooner marry a stout young Southland or young Vine." "She ain't going to marry any young Vine. When she marries I'll see she marries a steady, faithful, solid chap, and you're the best I know." "It's kind of you to say it, but reckon it wouldn't be a good thing for me to marry one sister when I love the other."