“Well, I don’t think she’ll miss anything. That is if she does she’ll find other things instead.”
“I presume she’ll miss Delia, and even me a little,” it occurred to Mr. Dosson to mention.
“Oh it’s easy to prevent that,” the young man threw off.
“Well, of course we shall be on hand.” After which Mr. Dosson continued to follow the subject as at the same respectful distance. “You’ll continue to reside in Paris?”
“I’ll live anywhere in the world she likes. Of course my people are here—that’s a great tie. I’m not without hope that it may—with time—become a reason for your daughter,” Gaston handsomely wound up.
“Oh any reason’ll do where Paris is concerned. Take some lunch?” Mr. Dosson added, looking at his watch.
They rose to their feet, but before they had gone many steps—the meals of this amiable family were now served in an adjoining room—the young man stopped his companion. “I can’t tell you how kind I think it—the way you treat me, and how I’m touched by your confidence. You take me just as I am, with no recommendation beyond my own word.”
“Well, Mr. Probert,” said his host, “if we didn’t like you we wouldn’t smile on you. Recommendations in that case wouldn’t be any good. And since we do like you there ain’t any call for them either. I trust my daughters; if I didn’t I’d have stayed at home. And if I trust them, and they trust you, it’s the same as if I trusted you, ain’t it?”
“I guess it is!” Gaston delightedly smiled.
His companion laid a hand on the door, but paused a moment. “Now are you very sure?”