The father stood as if hesitating, in the doorway.
"Come in, papa," said Lucy. "Chester's come."
"Yes; I see he has," replied the father as he came to greet the young man, and shake his hand warmly.
"I'm glad, with Lucy to see you with us again."
"And I am glad to be with you," said Chester honestly.
The morning was spent together. The beginnings of a London fog kept them in doors, which was no hardship, as the three seemed to have so much to talk about. After lunch, the fog changed its intentions, lifted, disappeared and let the sun have full sway. To be sure, some smoke still lingered, but out where the Strongs were staying it only mellowed the distances.
That afternoon it occured to Chester that the relationship now existing between him and Lucy called for a further understanding with the father. He knew, of course, that the father's attitude toward him had changed; Lucy's words and the father's actions justified him in the thought.
Chester managed to accompany the father in his stroll in the park that afternoon, and without delay, he broached the subject so near his heart. The minister listened quietly to the young man plead his case, not interrupting until he had finished. They seated themselves on a bench by the grass. The father looked down at the figures he was drawing with his cane on the ground and mused for a moment. Then he said:
"Yes; I have given my consent, by my actions, at least. I have no objection to you. I like you very much. Lucy does too, and fathers can't very well stop such things. But there still remains the fact that Lucy is not well. There is no telling how long she can live, and yet I have heard of cases like hers where marriage has been a great benefit."
"I thank you for your kind words," said Chester. "Let me assure you I shall be controlled by your judgement as to marriage. We are neither of us ready for that. Of course, I sincerely hope she will get stronger. I think she will; but meantime you have no objection to my loving her, and doing all for her that my love can do?"