himself of the belief that the old man had laid his plans deftly.

'I could only hope for it: I saw that she loved you.'

'Well, well,' said the younger man magnanimously, 'it was natural,
after all. Your expiation has ended better than you hoped; for the
little orphan child you have reared has found a home and friends, and
you yourself need work no more. Choose your abode here or anywhere
else in the West, and I will see that you are comfortable.'

'I will stay on here.'

'As you please. Silver will not forget you; she will write often. I
think I will go first up the Rhine and then into Switzerland,'
continued Waring, going back to himself and his plans with the
matter-of-course egotism of youth and love. And old Fog listened.

What need to picture the love-scene that followed? The next morning a
strong hand knocked at the door of the flower-room, and the shy little
maiden within had her first lesson in love, or rather in its
expression, while all the blossoms listened and the birds looked on
approvingly. To do him justice, Waring was an humble suitor when alone
with her; she was so fair, so pure, so utterly ignorant of the world
and of life, that he felt himself unworthy, and bowed his head. But
the mood passed, and Silver liked him better when the old
self-assertion and quick tone of command came uppermost again. She
knew not good from evil, she could not analyze the feeling in her
heart; but she loved this stranger, this master, with the whole of her
being. Jarvis Waring knew good from evil (more of the latter knew he
than of the former), he comprehended and analyzed fully the feeling