He sought the Colonel at once and obtained leave. There was no time to call at Rosemount, but he scribbled a hasty note to Miss Burton explaining matters. On his arrival, he found his aged relative very bad indeed. She had had a severe stroke, the second in two years, and Doctor Jephson was very doubtful as to whether her vitality would enable her to recover. He added that she had a marvellous constitution, and in such a case one could not absolutely say there was no hope. Of a feebler woman he would have said at once a few hours would see the end. Pomfret stayed there as long as the result was in doubt. At the end of three days the brave old lady rallied in the most wonderful way, and was able to hold a little conversation with her beloved nephew. He did not leave till the doctor assured him that she was out of danger. "It's a wonderful recovery," said Doctor Jephson as he shook hands at parting with the young man. "But it's the beginning of the end. I don't give her very long now, a few months at the most. Well, she has had a wonderful life, hardly an ache or a pain till the last few years, and then nothing very severe. But, of course, the machinery is worn out." All the way back to Blankfield those words kept repeating themselves in his ears: "I don't give her very long now, a few months at the most." And then an idea began to form in his mind. He was not so callous that he wanted his poor old aunt to die quickly, but it was obvious the time could not be long delayed when he would find himself possessed of her fortune, the master of his own destinies. Was there any reason why he should not forestall that period by the rather daring expedient of a secret marriage? They were both young. Even if the doctor was wrong, and they had to wait four or five years, it was not a great sacrifice of their youth. At least that was his way of looking at it. Of course he did not know how she would take the suggestion. She appeared to listen to him with deep interest and attention when he unfolded his plans. He explained that he had a very handsome allowance, which up to the present he had generally exceeded. Now that could all be altered. He would declare that he was sick of the army, and send in his papers. Through his family influence, he would get some Government appointment which necessitated his living in London. He would take inexpensive chambers for himself, rent a small house for her in some pleasant and not too remote suburb, and spend as much of his time as possible with her. "You don't think your aunt would reduce your allowance if you left the army?" was the one pertinent question she put to him when he had finished. "On the contrary, she would be more likely to increase it," was the confident rejoinder. "She would always have preferred that I should go in for something that meant real work. She thinks the army is an idle life."