"Yes," answered the girl, with a little quiver of triumphant happiness in her voice.
"When?" he asked.
A shadow fell over the fair, sweet face a moment.
"I do not know exactly when," she replied. "But Mr. Chesleigh will see you to-morrow—he told me just now that he would—and then he will settle everything."
There was a silence for a moment. The breeze sighed softly through the trees outside; they could hear it in the utter stillness. The dim, flaring light fell on the gray head of the old man, drooping forlornly on his breast, and on the lovely, upturned face of the girl, with its tender blue eyes and falling golden hair.
"Grandpa," she whispered, "do not be angry with your little girl. Put your hand on my head and say you forgive me for my fault."
He could not resist the coaxing voice and the asking blue eyes. He laid his hand on the golden head and said, solemnly and kindly:
"I forgive you, my little Golden, and I pray Heaven that no evil may come of this affair!"
She kissed his wrinkled, tremulous, old hand, where it hung over the arm of the chair.