"I fear Grace cares less and less for him."
"I know better. Even you will allow me some knowledge of human nature. Her indifference is assumed. She is deeply interested in him."
"Deeply interested? Yes; in how to escape him."
"Be that as it may, within six weeks of her eighteenth birthday she'll be Mrs. Peter Norcot; and her son will be called Maurice Malherb and come hither as soon as he is weaned. If ever I meant anything in my life, I mean that."
"The way you order human destinies!"
"It is the province of the strong man so to do," he answered calmly. "My son cannot fill my shoes, because he has fallen for his country; but my grandson can and shall. The rest of them may be Norcot's; the first is mine."
"To count your grandchildren before they are born!" murmured Mrs. Malherb.
"No such thing at all. Go to sleep, and don't be foolish. I do not count them. That is Heaven's work. I merely reserve the eldest to myself. The action may not be usual, but that weighs very little with me. I speak in a spirit both scientific and religious; and it shall be so, if the Devil himself said 'No!' so there's an end on it."
He turned over, and in ten minutes snored; but for long hours Annabel watched the twinkling sky, and marvelled as to what manner of planet reigned in heaven and lighted earth at the moment when her husband first drew breath.