"You feel that way, David? I had hoped to have everything rather splendid—to make up for what I could not do for—Merry."
"All stuff and nonsense! Give the girl her head. She knows her path and will not make mistakes. What she wants is Raymond and her own life. Nancy is simple and direct; no complications about her. Don't make any for her."
"David, her happiness and peace almost frighten me. You remember how she drooped last summer? Taking her to New York has done more than give her love and happiness. She is quite another girl, so resourceful and clear visioned."
"She's on her own trail, Doris, that's all. Things are right with Nancy. The rule holds."
"But, David, I have not told her yet——"
"Told her?—oh! I see—about the birth mix-up?"
Martin smiled—he always did when the subject was referred to. The humour and daring of it had never lost their zest.
"It is no laughing matter, Davey; as the time draws near when I must tell I am in a kind of panic. I always thought it would be easy; if it had been right why should I know this fear?"
Martin was serious enough now. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair—he held Doris with his calm gray eyes.
"It seems to me," he spoke thoughtfully, "that you should stand by your guns. You did what you did from the highest motives; you have succeeded marvellously—why upset the kettle of fish, my dear?"