"Not that I know of. He is too much wrapped up in his poetry. But I wish him to marry Ida Endicotte. She is a well-born girl and a good woman. I think she will make Stephen an excellent wife. She likes him." Jim felt the blood flush in his face. "Liking is not love," he said in a rather irritated tone. Mrs. Marsh pulled the curtains aside so that the light fell on the face of the young man. Then after a scrutiny she gave a short laugh. "So that is it, is it?" she said. "You are in love with the girl!" "I never said so Mrs. Marsh." "Pshaw! You can't blind me. I am a woman. Come. You are in love." Herrick shrugged his broad shoulders. "I do not see why I should deny it," he said coldly, "I am in love with Miss Endicotte; but so far as I can judge she is not in love with me. "I don't think she is in love with anyone," replied Mrs. Marsh, "but I have not seen enough of her to judge. If I could only see them together, I could tell. She likes Stephen though. But here I am chained to this bed and cannot get out to attend to matters of importance. Humph!" she eyed Herrick steadily, "so you are in love with her! Well! it has been the desire of my life to see Stephen married to Ida, but for all that, I want you to stay. Stephen shall give you a thousand a year to stay." "My dear Mrs. Marsh!" "Now don't contradict me or you will put me out of temper. And you know what that means. I ask you to stop, to show my regard for you. Many another woman would get you out of the way rather than see her pet scheme interfered with. I am not that sort of narrow-minded person. You shall have your chance along with Stephen. If she loves you, marry her in God's name and let's have done with the matter. If however she prefers my poor Stephen--sweet-hearted fool that he is--you must promise me not to put any obstacle in the way of the marriage." "If Miss Endicotte prefers your step-son I certainly should not think of objecting Mrs. Marsh," said Herrick stiffly. "Your remark is rather unnecessary." "I don't think it is," retorted the widow, "you are a gentleman, I know. But you are also a human being, and when love comes into the question there are few things a man will not do, or a woman for the matter of that!" She clenched her thin hand that laid outside the coverlet, and her face darkened. "I know! I know," she muttered between her teeth, "who should know but I who have suffered? Give me something to drink doctor. My throat is dry with talking." "I think I had better leave you," said Herrick after her thirst was assuaged, "you are wearying yourself." "Don't go," cried Mrs. Marsh abruptly, "I have much to say of importance. I may not be here long to say it." "Nonsense, Mrs. Marsh. You are getting better,--much better." "All the same I may die; one never knows," said the widow gloomily. Herrick laughed at these forebodings. "What!" said he trying to joke her out of so morbid a mood, "have you enemies, like Carr?"