"I am afraid you cannot count on me, Barry," she said slowly. He stared in sheer amazement.
"What do you mean, Aunt Caro?--you do care for her, don't you?"
"Care for her?" echoed Miss Craven, with a laugh that was curiously like a sob, "yes, I do care for her. I care so much that I am going to venture a great deal--for her sake. But I cannot propose that she should live permanently with me because all future permanencies have been taken out of my hands. I hate talking about myself, but you had to know some day, this only accelerates it. I have not been feeling myself for some time--a little while ago I went to London for definite information. The man had the grace to be honest with me--he bade me put my house in order." Her tone left no possibility of misunderstanding. He was across the room in a couple of hasty strides, on his knees beside her, his hands clasped over hers.
"Aunt Caro!" The genuine and deep concern in his voice almost broke her self-control. She turned her head, catching her lip between her teeth, then with a little shrug she recovered herself and smiled at him.
"Dear boy, it must come some day--it has come a little sooner than I expected, that is all. I'm not grumbling, I've had a wonderful life--I've been able to do something with it. I have not sat altogether idle in the market-place."
"But are you sure? Doctors are not infallible."
"Quite sure," she answered steadily; "the man I went to was very kind, very thorough. He insisted I should have other opinions. There was a council of big-wigs and they all arrived at the same conclusion, which was at least consoling. A diversity of opinion would have torn my nerves to tatters. I couldn't tell you before, it would have worried me. I hate a fuss. I don't want it mentioned again. You know--and there's an end of it." She squeezed his hands tightly for a moment, then got up abruptly and went to the fireplace.
"I have only one regret--Gillian," she said as he followed her. "You see now that it is impossible for me to make a definite home for her, even supposing that she were to agree to such a proposal. They gave me two or three years at the longest--it might be any time."
Craven stood beside her miserable and tongue-tied. Her news affected him deeply, he was stunned with the suddenness of it and amazed at the courage she displayed. She might almost have been discoursing on the probable death of a stranger. And yet, he reflected, it was only in keeping with her general character. She had been fearless all through life, and for her death held no terrors.