imple riddle the quick intuition
of a girl made clear.

She had reached the door before she paused. Then she turned. I
had risen mechanically and stood looking at her. As slowly she
came back and waited as if for me to speak. And when the dull
philosopher groped helplessly for words and could not meet the
appealing eyes, she put her hands on his shoulders, and laid her
warm, young face on his heart, and said, "Father!"

* * * * *

The night was peacefully beautiful. I had strolled out of the
garden and down to the river, and there along the bridle-path on
the winding bank I walked for miles. Absorbed in my own thoughts
I gave no heed to my little dog, Hero, trotting at my side and
looking anxiously up at me with her large brown eyes, as if
saying in her dog fashion: "Don't worry, old man; I'm here!" A
strange, inexplicable happiness had fallen to him who thought he
knew all others, and did not know even himself. I crossed the
river to return on the opposite shore, and all the way back,
through the arching trees, the shadows danced in the moonlight
and the crickets chirped merrily. Life seemed so contrary, so
bewildering, for I thought of the wedding music in those early
mornings at my boyhood home, and I wondered at the optimism of
Nature in attuning all emotions to a joyous note.

Again in my garden I saw a half-light in Phyllis's room. Coming
nearer I saw that she was standing at the window, with the same
cloud on her face that had betrayed the battle with her
conscience. At sight of her all the joyous emotion of my new
tenderness overwhelmed me and I cried out cheerily:

"Good-night, Phyllis!"

Something in my voice sent a smile to her eyes and gladness to
her heart, as, half leaning from the window, she kissed her hand
to me and called back softly: "Good-night, father dear!"

The south wind came, bringing the scent of the rose and the
honeysuckle, and stirring the drowsy branches of the elms. The
river rippled merrily in the moonlight, hurrying to bear the
tidings of happiness to the greater waters, and off in the
distance the blue hills lifted their heads above the haze. Toward
the north scudded the friendly little white cloud, and it seemed
again a soothing fancy that Sylvia--

O sweet and pleasant world!

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

Page 103: Changed housekeeper to house-keeper for consistency.

Page 116: Changed typo "effervesence" to "effervescence."

Page 142: Ch