All was done as he desired.
"Now go, please," he said to his sons. "I wish to be left with Julie."
For some moments, that seemed interminable to Julie, Lord Lackington lay silent. A feverish flush, a revival of life in the black eyes had followed on the administration of the two stimulants. He seemed to be gathering all his forces.
At last he laid his hand on her arm. "You shouldn't be alone," he said, abruptly.
His expression had grown anxious, even imperious. She felt a vague pang of dread as she tried to assure him that she had kind friends, and that her work would be her resource.
Lord Lackington frowned.
"That won't do," he said, almost vehemently. "You have great talents, but you are weak--you are a woman--you must marry."
Julie stared at him, whiter even than when she had entered his room--helpless to avert what she began to foresee.
"Jacob Delafield is devoted to you. You should marry him, dear--you should marry him."