He smiled at her tenderly.
"The sapling doesn't grow into a great oak in one hour, Hermione. Yes; yield yourself now—self, will, and all, keeping nothing back. But you will find more and more to yield as you go on—hidden depths of self, unsuspected forms of wilfulness; and much that you have thought yielded you will find not yielded. That has been one of my latest lessons. It may be one of your latest."
"Would you say that we are never to have a will or a wish of our own?" Harvey asked unexpectedly.
Hermione began, "No, never—" but he turned from her, with two words which plainly directed the question to Mr. Dalrymple— "Would you?"
"Yes, my dear boy, any amount, only never apart from God's will. Give over everything to Him, and He will give back to you tenfold what you have yielded up."
Harvey seemed to be thinking. Hermione, a little offended, remained silent. Mr. Dalrymple presently moved, as if to stand upright.
"I almost think I will go in, if you will both excuse me," he said. "I am over-tired to-night. We will discuss everything to-morrow."
"Are you going to bed, grandfather?"
Hermione had never known such an event before as retirement before his usual time.
He put an arm round her waist, kissing the fair brow, and holding out a hand to Harvey.