face again, just for an instant, why, all the years of loving, with no
answer, would be fully repaid."

"She loved you, Daddy--I know she did."

[Sidenote: The Old Doubt]

"I know, too, but not always. Sometimes the old, tormenting doubt comes
back to me."

"It shouldn't--mother would never have meant you to doubt her."

"Barbara," cried the old man, with sudden passion, "if you ever love a
man, never let him doubt you--always let him be sure. There is so much
in a man's world that a woman knows nothing of. When he comes home at
night, tired beyond words, and sick to death of the world and its ways,
make him sure. When he thinks himself defeated, make him sure. When you
see him tempted to swerve even the least from the straight path, make
him sure. When the last parting comes, if he is leaving you, give him
the certainty to take with him into his narrow house, and make his last
sleep sweet. And if you are the one to go first, and leave him, old and
desolate and stricken, oh, Barbara, make him sure then--make him very
sure."

[Sidenote: A String of Pearls]

The girl's hand closed tightly upon his. He leaned over to pat her cheek
and stroke the heavy braids of silken hair. Then he felt the strand of
beads around her neck.