stand by." Dan was the kind to whom the finding out would mean a great
deal, so the Doctor would "stand by."

There on his vine covered porch that morning, the old man's thoughts went
back to that day when the boy first came to him on the river bank, and to
all the bright days of Dan's boyhood and youth that he had passed with
the lad in the hills. "His life--" said he, talking to himself, as he has
a way of doing--"His life is like this day, fresh and clean and--". He
looked across the street to the monument that stood a cold, lifeless mask
in a world of living joy and beauty; from the monument he turned to
Denny's garden. "And," he finished, "full of possibilities."

"Whatever are you muttering about now?" said Martha, who had followed
him out after finishing her breakfast.

"I was wishing," said the Doctor, "that I--that it would be always
morning, that there was no such thing as afternoon, and evening and
night."

His wife replied sweetly, "For a man of your age, you do say the most
idiotic things! Won't you ever get old enough to think seriously?"

"But what could be more serious, my dear? If it were morning I would
always be beginning my life work, and never giving it up. I would be
always looking forward to the success of my dreams, and never back to
the failures of my poor attempts."

"You haven't failed in everything, John," protested Martha in softer
tones.