"Why should he before he wanted it? I like to see a man who can be content
with an art and a living by it."

"I hope I have not been to blame in allowing them to see so much of each
other," I said, hardly heeding my wife's words.

"It came about quite naturally," she rejoined. "If you had opposed
their meeting, you would have been interfering just as if you had been
Providence. And you would have only made them think more about each other."

"He hasn't said anything--has he?" I asked in positive alarm.

"O dear no. It may be all my fancy. I am only looking a little ahead. I
confess I should like him for a son-in-law. I approve of him," she added,
with a sweet laugh.

"Well," I said, "I suppose sons-in-law are possible, however disagreeable,
results of having daughters."

I tried to laugh, but hardly succeeded.

"Harry," said my wife, "I don't like you in such a mood. It is not like you
at all. It is unworthy of you."

"How can I help being anxious when you speak of such dreadful things as the
possibility of having to give away my daughter, my precious wonder that
came to me through you, out of the infinite--the tender little darling!"

"'Out of the heart of God,' you used to say, Henry. Yes, and with a destiny
he had ordained. It is strange to me how you forget your best and noblest