succeeded in transforming the place.
Anna would have a lovely home, and the simple country life would be far
more to her taste than ever town had been. Even Mrs. Herrick, who would
feel her loss keenly, owned this.

"And Mr. Herrick is to be asked on this grand occasion? I am glad of
that, Elizabeth;" and here Mr. Carlyon pushed up his spectacles and
peered at her in his mild, short-sighted way. "Do you know, my child,
there is something I have been wanting to say to you for a long time,
and I may as well say it now."

Elizabeth looked at him rather apprehensively: there was something
significant in his manner.

"Something? What do you mean?" she faltered,

"You have been a dear good daughter to me," he went on, clearing his
throat from a slight huskiness, "and if you were my own flesh and blood
you could not be more to me. We have so much in common, have we not, my
dear--and then we both loved David."

"Yes--yes," she murmured, and the ready tears sprang to her eyes.

"We mourned for our dear boy together," he went on slowly, "and groped
our way hand in hand through the darkness. How unhappy we were three
years ago! Even now it is painful to look back on those days, but,
thank God! time and His grace have helped us, and we no longer suffer."

"I am not so sure of that," returned Elizabeth in a low voice; but he
seemed not to hear her.

"You have been very faithful, Elizabeth. If you had been David's widow
you could not have mourned for him more deeply; but, as David's father,
I would bid you mourn no more."

She stared at him with parted lips, but the words would not come.

"Why should you spoil your life, Elizabeth? You are only thirty-five,
and please God there are many, many years before you. Why is your heart
to be empty and your arms unfilled because our precious boy is in
paradise? Do you know, my dear, we often spoke of this--he and I. Thank
God, there were no secrets between us, and he told me more than once
that the thought of your future was always on his mind."

Elizabeth bowed her head on her hands. She was weeping now, though the
tears came very quietly. "If he had only talked to me!" she murmured.

"He tried to do so more than once," returned Mr. Carlyon, "but each
time you stopped him. Would you like me to tell you what he said as
well as I can remember his words?" She nodded, but her face was still
hidden.

"It was at Ventnor, and very near the end, and he was talking about
you--living