Now, there is no doubt that I did most thoroughly believe in Crowder. I
had argued with myself against this belief to the utmost extent of my
ability, and I had now given up the effort. If I should disbelieve him
I would deprive myself of one of the most precious privileges of my
existence, and I did not intend to do so until I found myself absolutely
forced to admit that I was mistaken. Time would settle all this, and all
that I had to do now was to listen, enjoy, and be thankful for the
opportunity.

"I am not going to tell any stories now," he said, "for my wife has not
overcome her dislike to tobacco smoke, and she has insisted that she
shall be one of my hearers when I tell stories of my past life to you;
but I can tell you this, my friend: she will believe every word I say;
there can be no possible doubt of that. I have told her a good many things
since I saw you last, and her faith in me is a joy unspeakable."

Of course I was delighted to hear that this charming lady was to be my
fellow-auditor, and said so.

"I often think of you two," said Mr. Crowder, contemplatively leaning
back in his arm-chair. "I think of you together, but I am bound to say
that the thought is not altogether pleasant." I showed my amazement at
this remark. "It can't be helped," he said; "it can't be helped. It's
one of the things I have to suffer. I have suffered it over and over
again thousands of times, but I never get used to it. Here you are, two
young people, young enough to be my children: one is my wife; the other,
I am proud to say, my best friend. You are the only persons in the world
who know my story. You have faith in me, and the thought of that faith is
the greatest pleasure of my life. Year by year you two will grow older;