‘Kismet!’ he said softly. ‘’Tis the same ring I sent to Philip Debenham, as a wedding gift to his wife. How all things have come round according to my will! Kiss me, Roma, my child!’ She kissed him silently and passionately; and almost at once he sank into a calm, health-giving sleep; and when Tor had watched him for some considerable time in silence, and saw how much more natural his face had grown, and how tranquilly he breathed, he felt convinced that the worst was over, and that the patient would recover. For an hour he and Roma had sat silent and motionless on either side of the bed. Tor had been considering how best to put the girl at her ease with him, to show her how completely he understood the situation, and how little need there was for her to trouble herself about the matter. He would arrange everything with the father when he was in a more fit state to hear the truth. She was not to be afraid, for he would make it all right. This hour of watching gave him ample time to mature his plan, and at the end of it, he wrote a few words upon a slip of paper, and handed it across to Roma. ‘I think I had better see you alone for a few minutes before I go. Your father seems much better. Can you leave him for a short time? I will not detain you long.’ Roma rose at once, after she had read these words, and quietly crossed the room to the door, which opened noiselessly. Tor followed her out, and as soon as she had sent Mr. Meredith’s servant into his master’s room, she led the way down to the dining-room, where some refreshments had been spread for the watchers. ‘Ah, this is well—this is as it should be,’ said Tor, looking round with some satisfaction. ‘I was summoned away in the midst of my dinner, Miss Meredith, so I am hungry, and you ought to be, whether you are or not. In the character of your affianced husband’—here he smiled in his frankest way—‘you must allow me to insist upon your eating something.’ Roma sat down and poured out the tea, which was standing ready. She was confused and unhappy, and Tor was sincerely sorry for her. ‘Look here, Roma,’ he said, addressing her in a far more brotherly fashion than he ever managed to assume towards Maud. ‘I wish you would not make yourself miserable over your father’s fancy. I know quite well how it has all arisen, and it is a pity; but, you know, it is no bond, really; only I think, just for the time being, we must humour him by the fiction of an engagement. I hope it is not very distasteful to you. We will keep it as quiet as possible, and I will take the earliest chance that I can to put matters right. I know it is hard upon you; but it seems the only way.’ ‘Hard upon me!’ echoed Roma; ‘as if that mattered! I am his daughter; I would do anything for him—I must; but you—oh, it makes me so ashamed!’