"So it is like that, is it?" John said, resignedly. "Well, I have no objections, I'm sure. I want her to be happy."
CHAPTER II
One evening, shortly after that, Harold came into John's room, saying that he wanted to speak to him in private. He was slightly above medium height, quite thin, and attenuated-looking. He wore the black frock-coat, high, stiff collar, and black necktie of his calling. For a man of less than twenty-four years of age he certainly was grave and serious-looking. He was endeavoring to produce a show of whiskers on his cheeks and chin, but the effort was almost in vain, for the hairs grew sparsely and were of a color between yellow and light brown that did not make for density of appearance. However, he was earnest and sincere, and John liked and trusted him.
"I've been wanting to see you for some time, Mr. Trott," he began, taking a chair that was vacant near John's and linking his white hands between his knees. "I don't know what you will think of me, but I've had the audacity to fall in love with your sister, and, as I look upon you as her guardian and protector, I felt honor-bound to come to you."
"I see, I see." John had flushed with embarrassment. "Well, the truth is, Harold, I have been suspecting something of this sort lately, and I can imagine what you want to say."
Harold had never been one to give in to embarrassment. Life was too serious and needed too many corrections to justify him in losing time or emotion in that way, so without change of color, or quickened pulse, he went on. "I have reason to believe, Mr. Trott, that Dora reciprocates my feeling, and you may be sure that it has given me great happiness. She is wrapped up in my work, and I know of no woman who would so readily adapt herself to the routine of a minister's career. The only thing bothering us both has been—"
For the first time Harold hesitated.
"Go ahead," said John, awkwardly, and quite unaware of what was forthcoming.
"You see, I know what she has been to you all these years," Harold resumed, "and we both know, too, what your religious, or lack of religious, views are, and it has pained me to think that perhaps you would prefer as Dora's husband a man of—well, a man whose views were more in accord with your own than mine can ever possibly be."