'Carry your mind ten years on, my dear.'
'Well, I do so.'
'What do you see?'
'If we live?'
'If we live.'
She muses a little, looking into the fire.
'Ourselves old people; Charley and Ruth happily married, with children of their own; Mary married also, although her prince is not yet come, and is a stranger to us. Richard will go abroad: I can tell, by his reading and conversation, that his heart is set upon it. And Rachel--poor Rachel!--stopping sometimes with us, and sometimes--nearly always indeed--with Ruth and Charley. I can see myself with hair perfectly white, and you with only a fringe of white hair round your head.'
He laughs softly and pleasantly, and caresses her hand.
'I can see nothing but happiness, dear.'
They sit quietly before the fire, and the darkness grows deeper. The door opens, and Mr. Merrywhistle enters softly.