To think that one day, perhaps a child of mine should sing that song of poor Olivia!” He did not tell her that Mary had already quoted the lines in his hearing. He bowed his head, saying-- “I will go to her.” “You will be saving her--ah, sir, will you not be saving yourself,” cried Mrs. Horneck. He started slightly. “Saving myself? What can your meaning be, Mrs. Horneck?” “I tell you I was shocked beyond measure when I entered this room and saw you,” she replied. “You are ill, sir; you are very ill, and the change to the garden at Barton will do you good. You have been neglecting yourself--yes, and some one who will nurse you back to life. Oh, Barton is the place for you!” “There is no place I should like better to die at,” said he. “To die at?” she said. “Nonsense, sir! you are I trust, far from death still. Nay, you will find life, and not death, there. Life is there for you.” “Your daughter Mary is there,” said he. CHAPTER XXXI. He wrote that very evening, after Mrs. Horneck had taken her departure, one of his merry letters to Katherine Bunbury, telling her that he had resolved to yield gracefully to her entreaties to visit her, and meant to leave for Barton the next day. When that letter was written he gave himself up to his thoughts. All his thoughts were of Mary. He was going to place a barrier between her and himself. He was going to give himself a chance of life by making it impossible for him to love her. This writer of books had brought himself to think that if Mary Horneck were to marry Colonel Gwyn he, Oliver Goldsmith, would come to think of her as he thought of her sister--with the affection which exists between good friends. While her mother had been talking to him about her and her loving heart, he had suddenly become possessed of the truth: it was her sympathetic heart that had led her to make the two mistakes of her life. First, she had fancied that she loved the impostor whom she had met in Devonshire, and then she had fancied that she loved him, Oliver Goldsmith. He knew what she meant by the words which she had spoken in his presence. He knew that if he had not been strong enough to answer her as he had done that day, she would have told him that she loved him. Her mother was right. She was in great danger through her liability to follow the promptings of her heart. If already she had made two such mistakes as he had become aware of, into what disaster might not she be led in the future? Yes; her mother was right. Safety for a girl with so tender a heart was to be found only in marriage--marriage with such a man as Colonel Gwyn undoubtedly was. He recollected the details of Colonel Gwyn's visit to himself, and how favourably impressed he had been with the man. He undoubtedly possessed every trait of character that goes to constitute a good man and a good husband. Above all, he was devoted to Mary Horneck, and there was no man who would be better able to keep her from the dangers which surrounded her.