She paused, uncertain whether she had gone too far; but he inclined his head kindly towards her, and said,
"You are speaking justly, Nansie. Go on, if you have anything more to say."
"Yes, uncle, I have something more to say. That was your feeling for me at first; but since then--I say it humbly and gratefully--I have been happy in the belief that I have learned something for myself."
"You have," said Mr. Loveday. "I love you, Nansie."
"It is so sweet to me to know it, dear uncle," said Nansie, with tears in her eyes, "that I am enabled to bear Kingsley's absence--I hope and pray it will not be for long--with courage and resignation. And because of that, because of the love which unites us, you must think well of Kingsley--you must think always well of him. Uncle, he is the soul of honor, truth, and unselfishness. When he told me he loved me, and asked me to marry him, he did not weigh the consequences, as nearly every other man in his position would have done."
"He was rash," observed Mr. Loveday.
"Would you censure him for it? Did he not behave as an honorable, noble-hearted man?"
"Undoubtedly. He has a worthy champion in his wife."
"Ah, but it would distress me immeasurably to feel that you believe he needs a champion, or I a defender. You do not know him, uncle; when you do you will not fail to love him. I do not say that he is worldly wise, or quite fitted yet to battle with the future, but that it is his earnest desire to fit himself for what I feel will be a great struggle, and to perform his duty in a manly way. No man can do more, and, whatever may be our future, I shall love and honor him to the last."
"My dear Nansie," said Mr. Loveday, "say that you are partly right in your views of my feelings for your husband; be content now to know that you have won me over to his side."