"My old Doctor--?" she began presently, and looked up at him with eyes "like stars half-quenched in mists of silver dew."
"He agrees. We will make him live with us."
"Your father-?"
"Him, too. You shall be their daughter."
She gave him her hands.
"Well, on that condition."
The first person Keith sought to tell of his new happiness was his father. The old gentleman was sitting on the porch at Elphinstone in the sun, enjoying the physical sensation of warmth that means so much to extreme youth and extreme age. He held a copy of Virgil in his hand, but he was not reading; he was repeating passages of it by heart. They related to the quiet life. His son heard him saying softly:
"'O Fortunatos nimium, sua si bona norint,
Agricolas!'"
His mind was possibly far back in the past.