She bent down over him a little lower so that he could gaze full in her clear, frank eyes, and there was a curious sense of swelling in Neil's breast, and a jealous pang of despair as he clutched the arm of the chair tightly and thought of Alison, while the silence in the room seemed to be prolonged. It was Ralph Elthorne who broke that silence, and Neil started back to the present, for his imagination had been going rapidly astray. "Yes," he said quietly; "it is the truth." He paused again for a few moments. "You need not tell me," he continued, "but, answer this: and I shall quite recover--the use--of my limbs--and get about--again--as before?" Nurse Elisia did not remove her eyes from those which gazed into hers with such fierce question; but her own grew cloudy and seemed to darken with sadness and pity for the suffering man. "Answer me," he said imperiously. She turned quickly to Neil. "No," cried Mr Elthorne; "don't ask him what you are to say. Speak out--the truth." She bent lower over him with her eyes brimming over now, a couple of drops falling upon the invalid's breast as he clung spasmodically to her hand. "You cannot lie," he said hoarsely. "The truth--the truth?" Again there was a painful silence, and Neil clasped his hands together as his arms rested upon his knees, and he closed his eyes and let his head sink down, listening intently for the sentence which Nurse Elisia had been called upon to deliver. And at last she spoke, her low, soft voice thrilling father and son: "God has spared your life," she almost whispered, but every word was painfully audible, "and you retain the greatest gift to man--the full possession of your mental powers." "Yes, yes," he whispered. "Go on--go on." "You will soon, now, be sufficiently strong to be out and about once more, but--" "Go on," he panted--"go on." "Forgive me, dear Mr Elthorne, for saying it. You force it from me." "Yes, yes; go on," he panted--"the truth--the truth. I shall be out and about, but--" "Never again as of old," she continued; and low as her words were, they rang out to the ears of the listeners; "never again as of old." As she uttered this last word of what was almost as painful as a death sentence to such a man as Ralph Elthorne, a sob seemed to be torn from his breast, and Neil sprang up as if expectant of some fresh seizure. But his father made a sign which arrested him, and lay back gazing straight before him till many moments had elapsed. Then his lips parted, and they heard him say in a whisper: "A helpless cripple--I? Yes, it is the truth--the truth." CHAPTER FIFTEEN. A TEMPTING OFFER. "Never again as of old."