His low pleasant laugh did not embarrass her, and he answered:
"You are very kind to kindle that beacon of encouragement, but I fear your charitable sympathy clouds your judgment. Do you imagine any fair young girl could brave my grey hairs and wrinkles?"
"A young girl would not suit you, sir; but there must be noble middle-aged ladies whom you could admire, and trust, and love?"
He bent his white head, and whispered:
"Such, for instance, as Mrs. Carew, who converts all places into
Ogygia?"
Without lifting her eyes, she merely shook her head, and he continued:
"Miss Orme, all men have their roseleaf romance. Mine expanded very early, but fate crumpled, crushed it into a shapeless ruin, and leaving the wreck behind me, I went to the wilds of California. Since then, I have missed the humanising influence of home ties, of feminine association; but as I look down the hill, when the sun of my life is casting long shadows, I sometimes feel that it would be a great blessing had I a sister, cousin, niece, or even an adopted daughter, whom I could love and lean upon in my lonely old age. Once I seriously entertained the thought of selecting an orphan from some Asylum, and adopting her into my heart and home."
"When you do, I sincerely hope she will prove all that you wish, and faithfully requite your goodness."
She spoke so earnestly that he smiled, and added:
"Can you recommend one to me? I envy Palma his guardianship, and if I could find a young girl like you, I should not hesitate to solicit——"