'Ay, sir,' replied the old man, 'What is it?'

'This delicate child,' said I, 'with so much beauty and intelligence--has
she nobody to care for
her but you? Has she no other companion
or advisor?'

'No,' he returned, looking anxiously in my face, 'no, and she wants
no other.'

'But are you not fearful,' said I, 'that you may misunderstand a
charge so tender? I am sure you mean well, but are you quite certain
that you know how to execute such a trust as this? I am an old man,
like you, and I am actuated by an old man's concern in all that is
young and promising. Do you not think that what I have seen of you
and this little creature to-night must have an interest not wholly free
from pain?'

'Sir,' rejoined the old man after a moment's silence.' I have no right
to feel hurt at what you say. It is true that in many respects I am the
child, and she the grown person--that you have seen already. But
waking or sleeping, by night or day, in sickness or health, she is the
one object of my care, and if you knew of how much care, you
would look on me with different eyes, you would indeed. Ah! It's a
weary life for an old man--a weary, weary life--but there is a great
end to gain and that I keep before me.'

Seeing that he was in a state of excitement and impatience, I turned
to put on an outer coat which I had thrown off on entering the room,
purposing to say no more. I was surprised to see the child standing