Then their talk wandered elsewhere, for they had so much to say to each other that it seemed doubtful if they would ever get to the end of it all. Anthony was particularly anxious to learn what blessed circumstance had caused Barbara’s sudden re-appearance at Eastwich. She fenced for a while, then told him all the truth. “So you gave up this brilliant marriage for me, a fellow with scarcely a half-penny and a very few prospects,” he exclaimed, staring at her. “Of course. What would you have expected me to do—marry one man while I love another? As for the rest it must take its chance,” and while the words were on her lips, for the first time it came into Barbara’s mind that perhaps Anthony had no need to trouble about his worldly fortunes. For if it were indeed true that Captain Arnott was doomed, who else would succeed to the estate? “I think you are an angel,” he said, still overcome by this wondrous instance of fidelity and of courage in the face of Lady Thompson’s anger. “If I had done anything else, I think, Anthony, that you might very well have called me—whatever is the reverse of an angel.” And thus the links of their perfect love were drawn even closer than before. Only three days later Mr. Walrond was summoned hastily to the Hall. When he returned from his ministrations it was to announce in a sad voice that Captain Arnott was sinking fast. Before the following morning he was dead. A month or so after the grave had closed over Captain Arnott the engagement of Anthony and Barbara was announced formally, and by the express wish of Mr. Arnott. The old gentleman had for years been partially paralysed and in a delicate state of health, which the sad loss of his elder son had done much to render worse. He sent for Barbara, whom he had known from her childhood, and told her that the sooner she and Anthony were married the better he would be pleased. “You see, my dear,” he added, “I do not wish the old name to die out after we have been in this place for three hundred years, and you Walronds are a healthy stock, which is more than we can say now. Worn out, I suppose, worn out! In fact,” he went on, looking at her sharply, “it is for you to consider whether you care to take the risks of coming into this family, for whatever the doctors may or may not say, I think it my duty to tell you straight out that in my opinion there is some risk.” “If so, I do not fear it, Mr. Arnott, and I hope you will not put any such idea into Anthony’s head. If you do he might refuse to marry me, and that would break my heart.” “No, I dare say you do not fear it, but there are other—well, things must take their course. If we were always thinking of the future no one would dare to stir.” Then he told her that when first he heard of their mutual attachment he had been much disturbed, as he did not see how they were to marry.