The last, as a final solution of all his difficulties, had a strong attraction. It seemed so easy, and called for so small an effort. There was a fascination in the flowing water, in its softly murmurous motion. He looked at the river, and then dared not look longer. It seemed to cry to him, "Come to me! come to me!" Then he strode away from it into the high-road; but it drew him back again, for still he heard it calling, calling, "Come to me! come to me!" Moving out of the shadows of the trees on the terrace, he walked slowly, listening to that sinister voice, while he looked at the dark spaces of the water where the river lay in its deepest pools. But as he walked, still within the shadows, he came upon a pair of lovers, and he stopped to watch them. The lovers were his son Gilbert and Kitty Thornton. Their faces looked forward along the path, and they did not see the man standing in the shadows. The girl leaned lightly on Gilbert's arm, and was speaking low and softly to him. As she uttered the words, Gilbert patted the little hand that rested on his arm. On Kitty's face was something that had not been there a month or two before, and which now imparted to it a touch of gravity. Perhaps her face was just a little sad. And yet she was not feeling sad, for the man in the shadows heard her say-- "Oh, Gilbert, it is good to be in love! Life now would not be worth living without love." A passing boat attracted the attention of the pair, and they stood to observe it. Behind them was Francis Eversleigh. "I feel as if I could not exist without you now, Gilbert," said the girl, moving on again. "Nor I without you, darling," answered Gilbert, tenderly. Then in silence they went on their way. When they were out of hearing, Francis Eversleigh heaved a great sigh, and followed them with tottering steps. The siren voice of the river had died out from his ears; it called him no longer. "I must struggle on to the end," he said, and returned to his house. About noon next day, Bennet, who had pressing reasons for getting at once the ten thousand pounds he had asked for, looked in at 176, New Square, Lincoln's Inn, and requested to see Francis Eversleigh. "How are you, Harry?" inquired Eversleigh, when he saw him. Bennet had not seen the other for a considerable time, and he was immensely struck by the altered appearance of the solicitor, so he answered that he was very well, but regretted to notice that Mr. Eversleigh appeared to be in poor health. "Well," said Eversleigh; "you have no doubt heard I've had much of a painful nature--Mr. Silwood's death and Mr. Thornton's--to try me recently. I have felt these blows very keenly." "Of course you would," responded Bennet. "About this money, Mr. Eversleigh, I am sorry to trouble you, but I must have it at once." "At once!" "Yes, to-day if possible." "It's not possible."