“And yet you had some vague idea of doing it!” laughed her father.
“Only vague!” she responded. “Very vague!”
“Suppose the worst—that Jack is really gone—would you marry Craig?”
She thought a moment, then answered—
“No, I don’t think I could!”
“Right! You’d be a fool if you did! Dear child, you know what I’ve told you before this—there’s only one right way of marriage and that is great love on both sides. It’s no good playing with a sacrament. The thousands of miserable marriages and divorces are ample proofs of the mistakes men and women make in taking each other for better or worse on the strength of a mere ‘fancy,’ or by way of monetary convenience. Now I”—he paused—“I loved your mother!—loved her above everything in the world!—and I know she loved me! She gave me YOU!—and though I may be a testy old fellow at times I love you next best to Her. And I want you to be happy, my little girl!—and for your sake I hope Jack Durham is not killed. He’s not particularly clever—but I believe his heart is in the right place, and that he would make you a kind husband. Kindness is better than all the intellectual brilliancy in the world!”
He kissed her with lingering fondness, and then with an air of shaking off his mood of seriousness, resumed his groping among his books.
“And so Durham has gone to town?” he suddenly queried, looking round.
“Yes. So his housekeeper at the cottage told me this morning.”
“Some sudden business, I suppose! Craig won’t be back till to-morrow, so you’ll have to pass a quiet evening with me all alone! Poor little Sylvia! I’m afraid it’s very dull for you here sometimes.”