kissing her dark, shining hair, but for the fear that some person might
come there to notice and disturb me. And pretty soon I was startled to
see the father himself coming from Chastel's chamber to us. Catching
sight of me he paused, smiling, then advanced, and deliberately sat down
by my side.

"This one is sleeping also," he said cheerfully, touching the girl's
hair with his hand. "But you need not fear, Smith; I think we shall be
able to talk very well without waking her."

I had feared something quite different, if he had only known it, and
felt considerably relieved by his words; nevertheless, I was not
over-pleased at the prospect of a conversation just then, and should
have preferred being left alone with my precious burden.

"My son," he continued, placing a hand on my shoulder, "I sometimes
recall, not without a smile, the effect your first appearance produced
on us, when we were startled at your somewhat grotesque pilgrim costume.
Your attempts at singing, and ignorance of art generally, also impressed
me unfavorably, and gave me some concern when I thought about the
future--that is, _your_ future; for it seemed to me that you had
but slender foundations whereon to build a happy life. These doubts,
however, no longer trouble me; for on several occasions you have shown
us that you possess abundantly that richest of all gifts and safest
guide to happiness--the capacity for deep affection. To this spirit of
love in you--this summer of the heart which causes it to blossom with
beautiful thoughts and deeds--I attribute your success just now, when
the contact of your hand produced the long-desired, refreshing slumber
so necessary to the mother at this stage of her malady. I know that this
is a mysterious thing; and it is commonly said that in such cases relief