"No--no--Jane; you must not go. No--I have touched you, heard you, felt the comfort of your presence--the sweetness of your consolation: I cannot give up these joys. I have little left in myself--I must have you. The world may laugh--may call me absurd, selfish--but it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame."

     "Well, sir, I will stay with you: I have said so."

     "Yes--but you understand one thing by staying with me; and I understand another. You, perhaps, could make up your mind to be about my hand and chair--to wait on me as a kind little nurse (for you have an affectionate heart and a generous spirit, which prompt you to make sacrifices for those you pity), and that ought to suffice for me no doubt. I suppose I should now entertain none but fatherly feelings for you: do you think so? Come--tell me."

     "I will think what you like, sir: I am content to be only your nurse, if you think it better."

     "But you cannot always be my nurse, Janet: you are young--you must marry one day."