"God's goodness!" he cried. "He knows what love is surely--even if she
don't. You must be dreaming, woman."

"No," she answered. "You don't dream much at forty years old. He thinks to
hide it--my John does--so to call him. But I see it very plain indeed. He
knows what amazing gifts his daughter have got, and he knows she's vital
to Wych Elm; but he don't know what gifts I have got to put against 'em,
and so I do believe that deep out of sight he's weighing her parts against
mine."

"That ain't love, however," vowed Martin.

"'Tis one love weighed against another," she told him. "A man over fifty
don't love like a boy."

"The depths of human nature!" cried Mr. Ball. "I never thought that such
things could be. It looks to me, Mrs. Bascombe, as if--However, I'm too
loyal to say it. But you do give one ideas."

"Like father like daughter, I shouldn't wonder," she said thoughtfully.

"Just the same dark fear as was in my mind," he confessed.

He left her then in a mizmaze of deep reflections; but he didn't go until
they'd ordained to meet again. A considerable lot more of each other they
did see afore the fateful month was done, and the more easily they came
together because John Warner began to be very much occupied with Jane at
this season. The fourth week had very near sped and still she remained
firm; while behind the scenes, when he did see her, John found no help