The young man said nothing. The old one proceeded:--

"You are silent, and I am answered. I have long watched your
intercourse with this damsel, and loving you as my own son, I have
watched it with pain. She is not for you, William. She loves you
not. I am sure of it. I can not mistake the signs. She seeks other
qualities than such as you possess. She seeks meretricious qualities,
and yours are substantial. She seeks the pomps of mind, rather
than its subdued performances. She sees not, and can not see, your
worth; and whenever you propose to her, your suit will be rejected.
You have not done so yet?"

"No, sir--but I had hoped--"

"I am no enemy, believe me, William, when I implore you to discard
your hope in that quarter. It will do you no hurt. Your heart
will suffer no detriment, but be as whole and vigorous a few years
hence--perhaps months--as if it had never suffered any disappointment."

"I wish I could think so, sir."

"And you would not wish that you could think so, if you were not
already persuaded that your first wish is hopeless."

"But I am not hopeless, sir."

"Your cause is. But, promise me that you will not press your suit
at present."

The young man was silent.