Then, softening down all that was harsh in the proposal and magnifying all its better points, Dr. Spenlove related to her what had passed between Mr. Gordon and himself. She listened in silence, and he could not judge from her demeanour whether he was to succeed or to fail. Frequently she turned her face from his tenderly-searching gaze, as though more effectually to conceal her thoughts from him. When he finished speaking she showed that she had taken to heart his counsel not to decide hastily, for she did not speak for several minutes. Then she said plaintively,--
"There is no appeal, doctor?"
"None," he answered, in a decisive tone.
"He sought you out and made you his messenger, because of his impression that you had influence with me, and would advise me for my good?"
"As I have told you, in his own words, as nearly as I have been able to recall them."
"He was right. There is no man in the world I honour more than I honour you. I would accept what you say against my own convictions, against my own feelings. Advise me, doctor. My mind is distracted; I cannot be guided by it. You know what I am, you know what I have been, you foresee the future that lies before me. Advise me."
The moment he had dreaded had arrived. The issue was with him. He felt that this woman's fate was in his hands.
"My advice is," he said, in a low tone, "that you accept Mr. Gordon's offer."
"And cast aside a mother's duty?"
"What did you cast aside," he asked, sadly, "when you went with your child on such a night as this towards the sea?"