"I like Mr. Heron very much, Lucy. I don't know many men—young men especially—but I like him better than any young man I have met as yet."
"As yet. Yes, yes. I am glad to hear you say that," Lucy said with beaming eyes, and growing good-humoredly saucy in her very delight. "As yet. Yes, you put that in well, Nola."
"How so, dear?"
"Oh, you know. Because of the one yet to present himself; the not impossible He—nearly impossible though—who is to be fit for my Nola. I tell you I shall scrutinize him before I allow his pretensions to pass. Well, now, about Mr. Heron?"
"I think him a very brave, generous, and noble-hearted young man. I think he has not a selfish thought or a mean purpose about him, and I think he has spirit and talent; and I hope one day to hear that he has made himself an honorable name."
Lucy turned now to Minola a pair of eyes that were moist with tears.
"Tell me, Nola"—and her voice grew a little tremulous—"don't you think he's a man a woman might fall in love with?"
There was a moment's silence, and Lucy leaned upon Nola's knees, eagerly looking into her face. Then Nola answered, in a quiet, measured undertone,
"Oh, yes, Lucy; I do indeed. I think he is a man a woman might fall in love with."
"Thank you, Nola. That is all I wanted to ask you."