dr. jerce looked at clarice with a lowering face, and his expressive eyes flashed with anger. he was a strong-willed man, accustomed to having his own way in the face of all obstacles, and the merest hint of opposition annoyed him. having set his heart on marrying miss baird, he was determined to bring about the match, and, notwithstanding the hint of refusal which she had given him, while horran was alive, his determination remained unchanged. to be sure, he had then been ignorant of her engagement with ackworth, and had calculated upon an easier conquest of her objections. but now that he knew her affections were engaged, he saw clearly that it would be extremely difficult for him to achieve his purpose. clarice, as he knew, was no weak girl, to be talked into surrender; but for all that, jerce attempted to bend her to his will.

the doctor was too clever a man to give way to bad temper, knowing that such a weakness might lose him the prize he aimed at. inwardly angry, he was outwardly calm, and after that first swift look of annoyance, he regained his suavity. "does captain ackworth know that you intend to marry him?" asked jerce, politely.

clarice threw back her head haughtily. "certainly. he has proposed to me, and we are engaged."

"since when, may i ask?"

"you may ask, but i am not bound to answer."

"i am your oldest friend, miss baird, now that poor horran is dead."

clarice lifted her eyebrows. "still i fail to see that being an old friend gives you the right to cross-examine me about things which do not concern you."

"it concerns me a great deal that you should be happy," said jerce, disconcerted by her calmness.

"then you can set your mind at rest, doctor. i am happy."

jerce looked down at his neat boots. "i should have thought that a girl of your strong character would have chosen otherwise."

"really," said clarice, indifferently.

"in fact," stammered jerce, flushing, "i thought of offering myself as your husband."

"oh, i saw that long ago, doctor."

"and you had no pity upon me?"

"why should i have pity?" asked clarice, with a perceptible smile. "i have not played the coquette with you."

"no," said jerce, bitterly; "i am bound to say that at the first hint i gave you of my feelings, you recoiled, and have since held me at arm's length."

"seeing that i am engaged, that is as it should be."

jerce bit his lips. it angered him that she should be so calm, and so completely mistress of herself. "there is no hope for me, i suppose?" he inquired, with great humility.

"none. anthony is the man i love, and anthony will be my husband."

"perhaps," said jerce, under his breath, but she heard him.

"why do you say that?" she asked, abruptly.

"there's many a slip 'twixt cup and lip."

"that's a very well-known proverb, doctor, but it does not explain what you mean."

"then will you permit me to speak plainer?"

"if you are wise you will not," said clarice, quietly. "we are good friends, doctor; why should we become strangers?"

"i could never be a stranger to you," he said, fervently.

"oh, i think so, if i chose."

"and would you choose?"

"certainly, if you would not accept the situation."

"i cannot," cried jerce, his emotions getting the better of his judgment. "i am a man, and i feel like a man. for years i have loved you, and for a long time i have wished to make you my wife. i spoke to horran, and he was agreeable that i should marry you."

"indeed," cried clarice, with a flush of anger. "then permit me to remind you, doctor, that mr. horran, much as i loved him, had not the right to dispose of my hand. that goes with my heart."

"which is possessed by captain ackworth," said jerce, bitterly.

"exactly. you leave nothing to be desired in the way of explanation."

"but ackworth is not worthy of you," urged the doctor.

"really, and in what way?"

jerce was puzzled how to reply. he knew next to nothing about captain ackworth. "he doesn't look as if he had brains."

"ah! looks are deceptive sometimes. now you, doctor, look as though you had common sense, yet your conversation at present doesn't reveal that quality."

"you are hard, clarice."

"i thought that you were not going to call me clarice until you had the right?"

"i wish to acquire the right."

"it is too late. come, doctor," said clarice, tired of this quibbling, "it is useless to prolong this conversation. there are more important things to talk about than my marriage, which, after all--as i have reminded you--is entirely my own affair. let us agree to be friends," and she held out her hand, smiling.

jerce did not take it. "i can be nothing less than your husband," he said, drawing down his long upper lip obstinately.

"in that case, doctor, we may as well part for ever."

"for ever?" jerce started to his feet, much agitated. "oh, clarice, you don't mean that. i love you--i adore you--i worship you. no doubt it may seem ridiculous to you that a man of my age should speak like a schoolboy, and should show his deepest feelings so plainly. but i have had a lonely life, and you are all the world to me. don't send me away without hope. only say that some day--in some sweet hour--i can come and take your hand in mine."

clarice rose also, and her eyes sparkled with anger. "you are mad to talk in this way," she cried, passionately. "how can i say what you want me to say, when i am engaged, and when i love?"

"i am rich," pleaded jerce, eagerly. "i have a great name. i have heard that my name will be included in the list of new year's honours. i shall be sir daniel jerce, and you--"

"i shall be mrs. ackworth," interrupted clarice, imperiously. "not a word more, doctor; my mind is made up."

"and so is mine," said jerce, with a snarl, his face livid, and his eyes hard. "you shall not marry this man."

"who will prevent me?" asked clarice, with superb disdain. "who will prevent me from becoming anthony's wife?"

"i will. you shall become my wife."

"if there was not another man in the world, i would decline that honour. and let me remind you that i am no school-girl to be frightened by stage thunder. how dare you?--how dare you?" clarice stamped her foot, and clenched her hands. "go away, and never come near me again."

jerce remained silent for one moment. then, without a word, he took up his hat and walked slowly to the door. only when he had opened it, and stood with the handle in his hand, did he speak. "i shall go away," he said, with a steady look at the girl, "and i shall not return until you summon me."

when the door closed, clarice sank back in her seat, overwhelmed with emotion. she had small sympathy for the doctor, since he had merely cried like a child for the moon, which he knew was entirely beyond his reach. but his last words impressed her with a sense of danger, and she wondered what he meant by this sudden obedience. had he defied her, and remained to argue, she would have felt safer. dr. jerce--as she knew--was too strong a man to give in without a struggle, and that he should do so in this instance was ominous. in the words of the french proverb, he had but recoiled to spring the higher; yet clarice could not see how he could harm her, or anthony in any way. she was now her own mistress, free from supervision of any kind; horran's death was no mystery, and although the murderer was still at large, he would certainly be caught sooner or later; ferdy--here clarice rose again, and her face grew white. what if jerce could harm her by harming ferdy? jerce knew all about the boy and his fast life, and jerce, if put to it, would not hesitate to sacrifice ferdy, or anyone else, to achieve his ends. but the question was--what did jerce know about ferdy? while clarice asked herself this, ferdy himself entered, looking very sulky.

"i do call it a shame, clarry," he said, flinging himself into a chair, and thrusting his hands into his pockets. "why should uncle henry have treated me in this beastly way?"

"i think uncle henry has acted very wisely," said clarice, harshly. the tone of her voice made ferdy look up from his gloomy contemplation of the carpet, and he was struck by the whiteness of her face.

"what's the matter with you?" he inquired, crossly. "i should think that you ought to be satisfied, seeing that everything has come your way, clarry."

"do you think that it is a pleasure for me to take your burdens upon my shoulders?" asked clarice, fiercely. "i would much rather that uncle henry had named dr. jerce as your guardian, seeing that dr. jerce knows so much about you."

ferdy started to his feet, changing colour like a chameleon. "what has jerce been saying about me?" he demanded, with a sick look.

"nothing. he did not even mention your name."

"then what are you jawing about?" snapped ferdy, sitting down again.

clarice placed herself before him, and tried to make him meet her eyes. but he would not, and kept them on the carpet, shuffling his feet uneasily meanwhile. "dr. jerce asked me to marry him," she said, in a clear voice. "i refused him. he has accepted my refusal so calmly that i am certain he intends mischief."

"what rot," said ferdy, uneasily; "as though a great man like jerce would bother his head over you."

"oh," said clarice, with a chill smile. "perhaps it is king cophetua and the beggar-maid."

"bosh!"

"you are not polite, ferdy," said his sister, restraining a strong impulse to box his ears. "now, you listen to me. but that you are my brother and my twin, i should let you go your own way to ruin and destruction."

"that's rather strong."

"but not too strong for your weakness," she persisted. "i know you thoroughly, ferdy. you are a charming, weak, impulsive boy, with many attractions of person and manner, likely to lead you into undesirable company. people like you, and, as liking with the majority means selfishness, they will make use of you--perhaps in bad ways."

"what do you mean by bad ways?" asked ferdy, crossly.

"ways of pleasure--ways of folly--ways which do not lead to hard work and an honoured name. you are the kind of person, neither good nor bad, who goes dancing along the primrose path, out of sheer weakness, because others dance beside you. if you were a wicked man, ferdy, you would be clever, as wickedness needs cleverness to aid its full accomplishment. but you are merely weak, and that is dangerous to you and to me."

"i don't know what you are talking about," said ferdy, restlessly.

"but i do," cried clarice, passionately. "i know you better than you do yourself. i know that with your weakness you will bring disgrace on yourself and on me. were i selfish, as you are, i would decline this guardianship, and let you have your money, to go your own silly, weak way, which will lead to ruin. but i love you, and--"

"and so you bully me."

"i am not bullying you; i am talking sense, if you only have the brain power to enter into my feelings. because you are my brother and my twin, i accept the responsibility laid upon me. if you were not i should marry anthony next week, and forget much of the past."

"what past are you referring to?"

"that which has just closed with the death of uncle henry. for years you and i have gone with him down a long and pleasant lane. now with his death has come the turning, and another lane opens before us. whether it will be as pleasant remains with you."

"with me?"

"yes. i could marry anthony, as i say, and let you go alone. but i love you too well to see you ruin yourself. i shall take a house in london, and we will live there together. then i shall be able to look after you."

ferdy rose, pale with anger. "and i am to be tied to your apron-strings all my life."

"god forbid, as i have my own life to look after. even for love, one should not sacrifice one's whole life--that is, the kind of love, the sisterly affection which i have for you. my love for anthony is different. i have no right to sacrifice him to you. but when you are married to prudence, my task will be ended. she will look after you--she will take care of you, and i can then marry and be happy, knowing that you are safe."

"and suppose i object to this scheme you have, of taking a london house?" asked ferdy, savagely. "in that case i'll stop your allowance."

"you can't--you daren't."

"i can and i dare. i have complete power. there is only one other way. if you will marry prudence in a month or so, i'll allow you one thousand a year. i can do that as guardian, although you will not come in for your full income for two years."

"i'm sure i'd like to marry prudence," said ferdy, uneasily.

"you are engaged to her."

"yes, but mr. clarke has been objecting."

"i don't see why he should. i'll see mr. clarke and sweep away his objections. i can do that, seeing he is in my debt to the tune of one thousand odd pounds. well, then, will you come and live with me in london, or marry prudence, and get the money?"

ferdy shuffled. "if i do neither?"

"i have already said what i would do. you can't live without money."

"dr. jerce will look after me," blurted out ferdy, significantly. clarice shrugged her shoulders. "perhaps. he has the name of being a philanthropist. but i should like to know if there is any chance of jerce threatening me through you?"

"what rubbish. of course not."

"i am not so certain," said clarice, dryly, and striving to read the weak, handsome face before her. "jerce is deeply in love with me, and would give much to stop my marriage. he hinted as much. now, i know that he cannot hurt anthony, or me, as both our lives are above reproach. the sole trouble in my life is the death of uncle henry, and the inquest has explained that. the motive for the crime undoubtedly is robbery."

"you believe that?"

"after what mr. barras explained, i do, although," added clarice, in a thoughtful manner, "i never would have taken uncle henry to be a miser. chalks might know something about that money, if uncle henry really had it concealed in his room. i'll speak to him. however, you can see that there is no reason why i should be afraid of dr. jerce. now, is there any reason why you should fear him?"

"no," said ferdy, earnestly, and, turning a frank face to his sister, "i have been reckless and fast. jerce has helped me with money, and i have run up bills for motor-cars, and suppers, and tailors, and flowers, and such-like things. but if you will pay these bills, jerce can say nothing against me."

"how much do the bills amount to?"

"two thousand pounds."

clarice sat down gasping. "two thousand pounds and in one year," she said, utterly bewildered, "ferdy, you--you fool."

"there," said the young man, bitterly. "i make a clean breast of it because you want me to, and then you bullyrag me. but here," he pulled a sheaf of papers out of his breast pocket, "i had intended to give these to barras when the will was read, thinking that i would get my own money, and that barras would be able to arrange for the payment. but when i spoke to him just now, he referred me to you as my guardian. here is a list of my debts with the bills attached. if you will pay these off, clarry, i swear to turn over a new leaf. you needn't look so angrily at me. i am no worse than other chaps."

"my poor boy," said clarice, mournfully; "i am not angry, but only sorry for your weakness. but i am forced to be strong, since i have to deal with a reed. i shall take these"--she reached for the bills--"and they will be paid, as soon as i can arrange--on conditions."

"conditions." ferdy began to gloom again. "what conditions?"

"firstly, that you have nothing more to do with zara dumps. i am quite sure that she has led you into spending money."

"there's nothing wrong about her," grumbled ferdy, wincing; "zara is perfectly respectable."

"i dare say, seeing that i have heard how she wishes to make a good marriage. all the same, she is not averse to making use of you to amuse her, and her amusements are expensive. you must give her up."

"oh, i'm quite agreeable," said ferdy, readily; then added, in a most candid manner, "the fact is, clarry, i must give her up, as she has chucked me."

"i see," said clarice, rather disgusted, "you make a virtue of necessity. still, so long as you give her up, i don't ask for your reason."

"well, then, you have it without asking," retorted ferdy, airily; "and the other condition?"

"you must marry prudence clarke in two months--that will be a sufficiently long time after uncle henry's death, and i want you to be settled as soon as possible."

ferdy looked at her very straightly, and then dropped his eyes on the carpet. "i'll marry prudence, if she'll marry me."

"she's engaged to you; she loves you."

"as i said before, her father--"

"i'll interview mr. clarke," interrupted miss baird, quickly. "he was delighted when your engagement was announced, and i do not see why he should change his mind. if he refuses to permit the marriage--"

"yes!" said ferdy, hastily, "if he refuses."

"you must agree to live with me in london for two years--that is until you get your money."

"i don't know what jerce will say."

"say? what should he say? you are not bound to him in any way."

"no. but he is famous, and can help me a lot when i become a doctor."

"rely on your own brains, ferdy," said clarice, quickly, "and not on the patronage of any influential person. besides, you can attend your classes, and to your studies all the same, while we live together."

"very well," assented the boy, sullenly, "if you don't pull the strings too tightly."

"of the money bags, do you mean?" asked clarice, smiling. "you need have no fear, ferdy; i am not stingy."

"you're a good sort, clarry," said her brother with sudden emotion. "i-i--i'll do whatever you like, and--and i'll always come to you in trouble, dear."

hastily kissing her, he fairly ran out of the room, leaving clarice much puzzled. she had rarely seen ferdy so moved, and wondered why he had left so suddenly. clarice may have been unduly suspicious, but she did not think that the new epoch was opening auspiciously. and yet, so far, she had got everything her own way.