Avice had gone to bed. John Leyburn had departed. Nita was in her dressing-room, where Jerome found her. ‘You are tired?’ he asked, a new emotion in his face and eyes, as he bent over her. ‘A little, dear. Nothing much. I suppose you are busy?’ ‘Yes. It is only a quarter-past ten. I am going to read for an hour. I have been–I mean your father has been speaking to me about you. He has been thanking me for making you _happy_. My God, Nita! How can I look at you and confess it! But some day’–he clasped her hand–‘some day, you shall be happy–you shall, my wife.’ He dared not trust himself to say any more, but left her. Nita sat still in the same position, not weeping–she did not very often weep now–but looking down at the wedding-ring on her hand, and wondering if that _some day_ would ever come. It was but a very few days after this that Mr. Bolton’s death took place. Nita was very quiet, and apparently not much disturbed about it. She spoke about it to no one, except that when she first saw John Leyburn after it, she thanked him for all he had been to her father; and she one day said to Jerome that now the Abbey belonged to him, she wished very much that he would settle Monk’s Gate upon Avice for her own, unless he objected. ‘And there is another thing,’ she added; ‘I believe Avice and John are very fond of one another, and I want you, if he proposes for her, to give your consent.’ ‘Avice and John! My dear child, you are dreaming!’ ‘Oh no, I am not. I know all about it as well as if they had told me; and oh, Jerome, don’t come between them, please.’ ‘I think you are match-making a little; but if it should turn out so, I shall certainly not oppose it, and I will see about Monk’s Gate being settled upon Avice at once.’ Nita thanked him, and the subject dropped. Mr. Bolton’s will was much applauded by all who heard of it, as being very just and righteous–a pattern of a will. Needless to go into details. The property was left to Nita and her husband on trust, subject to certain restrictions, for their lifetime, when the bulk of it went to a prospective elder son, proper provision being made for what other children there might be, and for Nita, if she were left a widow. Having left behind him these right and equitable provisions, Mr. Bolton was laid away to his rest in Wellfield churchyard, and allowed to sleep out his long sleep in peace.