must be accomplished today."

"Then it is, I take it, a matter of life or death?"

There was a brief silence, broken only by the low ticking of the marble clock upon the mantelshelf.

"Of death," he answered in a low, strained tone. "Of death, rather than of life."

I held my breath. My countenance must have undergone a change, and this did not escape his observant eyes, for he added--"Before we go further, I would ask you, doctor, to regard this interview as strictly confidential.""It shall be entirely as you wish," I stammered. The atmosphere of the room seemed suddenly oppressive, my head was in a whirl, and I wanted to get away from the presence of my tempter.

"Good," he said, apparently reassured. "Then we can advance a step further. I observed just now that you were a bachelor, and you did not contradict me."

"I am a bachelor, and have no intention of marrying."

"Not for ten thousand pounds?" he inquired.

"I've never yet met a woman whom I could love sufficiently," I told him quite plainly.

"But is your name so very valuable to you that you would hesitate to bestow it upon a woman for a single hour - even though you were a widower before sunset?"

"A widower before sunset?" I echoed. "You speak in enigmas. If you were plainer in your words I might comprehend your meaning."

"Briefly, my meaning is this," he said, in a firmer voice, after pausing, as though to gauge my strength of character. "Upstairs in this house my daughter is ill - she is not confined to her bed, but she is nevertheless dying. Two doctors have attended her for several weeks, and today in consultation have pronounced her beyond hope of recovery. Before being struck down by disease, she was hopelessly in love with a man whom I believed to be worthless - a man whose name they told me was synonymous with all that is evil in human nature. She was passionately fond of him, and her love very nearly resulted in a terrible tragedy. Through the weeks of her delirium she has constantly called his name. Her every thought has been of him; and now, in these her last moments, I am filled with remorse that I did not endeavor to reclaim him and allow them to marry. He is no longer in England, otherwise I would unite them. The suggestion I have to make to you is that you should assume that man's place and marry my 

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