"Come here, Pussy," he said. "I'm not very dreadful yet, my dear." "Dear Mr Reed--dear Mr Reed!" cried Janet, running sobbing to his side; "don't, pray, talk like that." The old man smiled with content as the girl fell upon her knees by the bed, and embraced him tenderly, "Ah! that's right. That's like my little darling," he said, and he stroked her cheek. "Don't cry any more, my dear. There! you two go farther away; Janet and I have a few words to say together." Clive and the Doctor moved to the window and stood with their backs to the bed, the old man watching them intently for a few moments, and then smiling at Janet as he held and fondled her hand. "There!" he said, "you are not to fret and be miserable about it, and when I'm gone it is not to interfere with your marriage." "Oh, Mr Reed!" she cried passionately. "No, no, no," he continued quietly; "not a bit. Life is short, my dear; enjoy it, and do your work in it while you can. And mind, there is to be no silly parade of mourning for me. I'm not going to have your pretty face spoiled with black crape, and all that nonsense. Mourn for me in your dear little heart, Janet: not sadly, but with pleasant, happy memories of one who held you when you were a baby, and who has always looked upon you as his little daughter." Janet's face went down on the old man's hands with the tears flowing silently. "Now, just a few more words, my dear," he almost whispered. "Your father and I have rather spoiled you by indulgence." "Yes, yes," she whispered quickly. "I have not deserved so much." "Never mind; you are going to be a dear good girl now, and make Clive a true, loving wife." "Yes, I'll try so hard." "It will not take much trying, Janet, for he loves you very dearly." She raised her head sharply, and there was an angry look in her eyes. "No, no, you are wrong," said the old man. "Always the same, my pet. I can read you with these little jealous fits and fancies. I tell you, he loves you very dearly, and I'm going to say something else, my pet, my last little bit of scolding, for I've always watched you very keenly for my boy's sake." "Mr Reed!" she whispered, shrinking from him and glancing towards the window; but he held her hands tightly. "They cannot hear us, little one," he said, "and I want you to listen. For your own happiness, Janet, my child. It is poor Clive who ought to have been jealous and complained." Janet hid her burning face. "It was not all your fault, little one, but I saw a great deal. Innocent enough with you; but Jacob has always been trying to win Esau's heritage, and even his promised wife." The girl sobbed bitterly now, and laid her burning face close to the old man's, hiding it in the pillow. "Oh, don't, don't," she whispered. "I never liked him, but he was always flattering me and saying nice things."