Mr. Keith was both surprised and moved. "I can't realize that she's really grown up," he said, "and—I—don't know how to spare her even to you, Wallace."
"But you know, my dear sir, it isn't as if I wanted to carry her away."
"No, that's quite true. But her mother's right in her is fully equal to mine. Wait a moment till I call her in."
So the request and the arguments in its favor had to be repeated.
The mother's eyes filled, and for a moment she was silent. Then, holding out her hand to the young man, "I have long had a motherly affection for you, Wallace," she said, "and there is no one else to whom I could so willingly entrust the happiness of my dear child, and yet it is very hard to give her up."
"Don't think of it in that way, dear Mrs. Keith," he made answer in tones of the deepest respect, taking the hand and lifting it gallantly to his lips. "Think of it rather as taking another member, another son, into the family. It would be joy to me to have the right to call you mother."
"And I should be proud to own you as my son," she returned with her own sweet, motherly smile. "But Zillah herself must decide this question."
"Then I have nothing to fear, nothing more to ask," he said joyously.
In truth, no one had any objection to bring against the match, and all went smoothly and happily with the newly affianced pair.
The next day Wallace came hurrying in with beaming countenance and eager air. "Ah! it was you I wanted," he said, finding his betrothed alone in the parlor, whither she had betaken herself for her daily hour of practice on the piano. "Won't you put on a shawl and bonnet and come with me?"