"My dear," he said gravely, "I was glad to make you the gift, but I want you to know that there is a considerable sum of money of your own, and your father wished you to enjoy it. Whatever you want and is proper for you to have, I shall be glad to get, and to do. For I have no little girl but you."
"Would it be wicked and selfish if I said I was glad?"
The arms tightened a little. How soft they were! And her hair brushed his cheek. It always seemed to have a delicate subtle perfume.
"No, dear. You and I are curiously alone in the world. I haven't a first cousin, neither have you."
"And a whole houseful of folks is so nice," she said wistfully.
He had been very well content with his books and his college friends. But women were different, at least—those who shut out everybody narrowed their lives fearfully.
"We will try and have some."
"And you must like it. If you do not, the greatest pleasure will be taken out of it for me."
"I shall like it;" encouragingly.
"How good you are to me. Father said I must love you and obey you, for you would know what would be best for me."