But Zenas Henry maintained a grim silence. He had risen to his full height and now stood braced to meet an ordeal which he dreaded far more than he would have been willing to admit. His gaunt figure was stiff with resolution, his jaw set, his lips compressed. It was the same expression his countenance had worn the night he had gone forth into the storm to rescue the sinking crew of the Michleen from probable death; it was the expression his companions dreaded and feared,—the fighter ready for combat. Yet his antagonist, as he alighted from the motor-car and crossed the grass in leisurely fashion, appeared to be anything but a formidable adversary. He came toward Delight, who had hurried out to meet him, with easy friendliness, his hands extended and a smile of genuine affection on his face.
"I am glad to see you, my dear," he said, "—and in your own home, too. I fancy you must have thought me a great while in coming. I was detained in New York much longer than I expected; otherwise you would have seen me days ago."
She smiled up into the kindly gray eyes.
"And my, my, my! What a lot of mischief you and Bob have been getting into in my absence! You sly little puss! You may well blush. The bare idea of your springing a surprise like that on your new uncle! Bob has told me all about it," he suddenly became grave, "and I am very glad for you both. You could not have chosen a finer husband, little girl. Robert Morton is one man in a thousand. We'll talk more of him by and by. Just now I wish to meet all your family. You must present each one, so that I shall not get all these many captains confused."
How simply and naturally he bridged the awkwardness of the moment! Before they realized it, Abbie and the three veteran seafarers were chatting gaily with the visitor, and even Zenas Henry was venturing out of his reserve and unbending into geniality when the words "and now to business" chilled the warmth of his mood and sent him back into his shell, thrilling with vague forebodings.
With every eye fixed expectantly upon him, Mr. Galbraith took off his Panama and fanned himself.
"Now that we have put together a few of the links that bind our two families," he began, "and laid the foundation for a friendship which I hope the future will foster, there are a few intimate matters of which I wish to speak. First there is Bob Morton, and if you want any reassuring as to his character, I can give it to you. Your own wise and shrewd discrimination has led you to accept him at his face value and your estimate of him has not been a mistaken one. I do not think there is a young man in the world of greater sterling worth than the one your daughter has chosen for a husband."
At the firm emphasis on the word daughter, Zenas Henry's jaw relaxed.
"Of course, you feel the same anxiety for your child that I feel for mine, and realize how much a woman's happiness depends on the man into whose hands she puts her life. In giving up Cynthia I know what it means to you to give up Delight. We parents cannot expect to have all the joy and none of the suffering that comes with having children, however." He looked at Zenas Henry and a quiet sympathy passed from one man to the other. "But we should be selfish indeed were we to deny to those we love the best gift heaven has to bestow. It is making others happy in their way, not in ours, that tests our real affection for them. And so I know that underneath all your personal regrets you rejoice in the prospect of Delight's marriage as I rejoice in Cynthia's. We shall not always be in this world to safeguard our daughters. How much better to see their future in the protection of younger and stronger men than ourselves!"
"Yes, yes!" murmured Zenas Henry.