She stopped, for a deep breath escaped from Neil's breast, sounding like a faint groan of relief. "I beg your pardon," he said coldly. "Sir Denton tells me," she said again, but more firmly, for his tone irritated her over-strung nerves, "that you have accepted an appointment to go out to one of the most unhealthy places on the West Coast." The spell was broken, and he could speak out now firmly and well. "Yes," he said, with a feeling of eager joy that they were off dangerous ground. "I suppose the place is unhealthy, for the suffering there is terrible. It has been full of horrors, but I hope to change all that." "And the risk--to your life?" He laughed--harshly, it sounded to her--and she shrank away at his next words, but still clutched the marble mantelpiece. "This from you?" he said; and she thought it was meant as a reproach, but his next words gave her confidence. "Why, you would go into any plague-stricken place without shrinking, or realising the danger." "Yes," she said softly, "if it were necessary. I hope so." "Well, then, why should I hesitate? I hope I shall not suffer. It would be a pity," he continued, quite calmly now, and his words seemed unimpassioned and dreamy in their simplicity. "If I died, I suppose it would be a loss to the poor people out there, whom I hope to save. They might have a difficulty in getting another man." "Yes," she said, with a shudder. "Sir Denton tells me that he has had great trouble in filling the appointment." "I suppose so. Yes: he told me." There was another pause. "Ought you to go?" she said at last, and her voice was not so firm. "Certainly," he replied rather bitterly. "I have nothing to lose except my life." "You have those at home who love you--sister, father." "Poor little Isabel! Yes, but she has one who loves her. My father is sure to yield to circumstances there. It is of him I think most. I shall ask you to be kind to him, as you always have been. He will grow more exacting, I fear, as the years roll on; but you will see him occasionally. He likes you; his liking will grow into love, and he will take your advice. Will you do this for me?" She made no reply, and as silence was gathering round them again, he hastened to break it and fight back the thoughts that would arise. "I shall be grateful for anything you in your experience can do for him to make life pass more easily; and you will help and counsel my little sister, too. She must not marry a fox hunting squire." Still no answer, and he went on hurriedly. "I shall not go down again. I start so very soon. It would only be painful to them; and I shall be very busy making preparations till the ship sails." She stood there, clinging to the cold stone, and he went on in the same hurried way.