"The thankfulness is mine, Eleanor," Gorham replied; "but I shan't let
you speak of 'the years' at twenty-six. Wait until you add twenty-five
more to them and reach my dignified estate."

"It is experience which adds the years, my Robert; and this almost gives
me the right to priority."

"I know, I know," her husband replied, drawing her gently to him. "Do
you never forget it?"

"You and the dear girls have softened the past into a memory which I can
at least endure," she continued, "and you fill the present with so much
happiness that I rarely have time to look backward."

"Alice spoke just now of how much you had been to her, and it started
something moving in my own heart. That is probably what led me to speak
as I did."

"Alice is a darling," Mrs. Gorham replied, happy beyond words at the
double tribute received from father and daughter. "Just now she is
passing through what seems to her to be a crisis, and she needs
assistance from us both."

Gorham looked at her in surprise. "A crisis?" he asked.

"Yes, Robert; and the responsibility is yours: you have passed on to
her, as directly as heredity can do it, that love of business which has
made you what you are. You have been denied a son, but whether you wish
it or not your daughter naturally possesses those very business