“I’d imitate Prospero.”
“Who was he?”
“An Italian duke with an only daughter. He commanded the air and the lightning, but he loved his daughter so much that he resigned his power.”
“Professor, I never heard of him.”
The doctor handed the piece of china to Chase Mahan, who put it on the shelf and joined the conversation.
“Thank you for telling Asher that tale. When we get these dishes done. I’m going to take him out on the porch and remind him that Prospero let his daughter marry the son of his bitterest enemy.”
“Chase, you don’t have to take me out on the porch for any such purpose. If my daughter wants to marry your son, I shan’t say a word against it.”
“Thank you, Asher. I knew you’d recognize some obligation, but I don’t wish to be too personal before the young man.”
“Is he blushing?”
“He seems to be.”