"Vengeance is mine. I will repay." These were the words on which his eyes fell.
Comfort! He closed the book with a groan and returned it to the bookshelf. But in returning it he chose the highest shelf of all and pushed it far back and well out of sight.
He had scarcely done so before a light quick step was heard at the door, and Charlotte, her eyes and cheeks both bright, entered.
"My dearest, my darling," he said. He came to meet her, and folded her in his arms. He was a dying man, and a sin-laden one, but not the less sweet was that young embrace, that smooth cheek, those bright, happy eyes.
"You are better, father; you look better," said his daughter.
"I have been rather weak and low all the evening, Lottie; but I am much better for seeing you. Come here and sit at my feet, my dear love."
"I am very happy this evening," said Charlotte, seating herself on her father's footstool, and laying her hand on his knee.
"I can guess the reason, my child; your wedding-day is fixed."
"This morning, father, I said it should be the twentieth of June; John seemed quite satisfied, and four months were not a bit too long for our preparations; but to-night he has changed his mind; he wants our wedding to be in April. I have not given in—not yet. Two months seem so short."
"You will have plenty of time to prepare in two months, dear; and April is a nice time of year. If I were you, I would not oppose Hinton."