"I have only one relative in the world," he said, "and she is now in Europe with her husband and children. But I have friends I wish to send for at once. Will you kindly give me the utensils to write out a telegram, Doctor?" The telegram, when completed, was addressed to "Mr. Thomas Griffith, Centerville, N. Y.," and read: "Come at once. Bring your wife and Helena. A matter of life and death." Then followed his name and address. A few hours later, they came--startled, wondering, anxious. Dr. Sydney was alone with the patient, awaiting the arrival of the nurse. He ushered the pale trio to Percy's bed-side, and was about to retire to an adjoining room, when Percy detained him. "Wait!" he said. "I want you to tell my friends, Doctor, my exact condition, just as you have told me. Spare nothing." Dr. Sydney did as Percy requested. "And now," added Percy, "I wish to say for myself that I have no expectations of recovery. I do not want to live, and I shall make no effort to assist my medical advisers in restoring me to health. And since I must die, Helena, let me make you my wife. Let me leave you the lawful heir of my otherwise useless wealth--and let your hands minister to my last wants while on earth. It will not be long; but that brief time will be rendered the happiest of my whole life, if I can have your care, and companionship. Helena will you not consent?" Mrs. Griffith was sobbing and Mr. Griffith and Dr. Sydney were wiping their eyes. Helena alone was tearless. But her heart seemed dying within her, so sudden, so terrible, so unexpected was this situation. "Helena, will you consent?" Percy repeated. "I cannot, oh, I cannot!" she cried. "Helena!" It was Mrs. Griffith who spoke now through her sobs. "Helena, you are cruel. Don't you know it is a dying man you are refusing to make happy upon his death-bed?" "There may be one chance for his life, and you are ruining that. It is murder!" Mr. Griffith added. "He needs some tender woman's care--he must have it!" said the Doctor. "No money can buy the kind of care and nursing he needs during the next month or six weeks." Helena put her hands to her temple, with a distracted gesture. "Oh--you do not any of you understand!" she cried; "it is not my place--Percy, may I see you alone a moment?" "H'm--h'm! quite a romance here!" mused Dr. Sydney, as he trotted out of the room with his hands clasped under his coat-tails. "Liver trouble and love affairs together--bad complication--very bad. Enough to pull any man down. Hope the girl will marry him and nurse him. She has the look of a born _mother_ in her face. Some women have. They always make good nurses." Meanwhile, Helena was kneeling by Percy's bed-side, her hands clasping his, her face luminous with love and her heart torn with conflicting emotions.