It came to him in a flash of revelation that, did she have a mother, it was to her she would have gone at this moment, and not to him, and his eyes were a little misty as he looked down at her. That she and her sister should have grown, motherless, to such sweet, triumphant womanhood struck him in this instant as a kind of miracle--he had never thought of it before. He had taken their beauty, their wit, their sanity, as matters of course; he had never looked at them, clearly, from the outside; he had never quite thoroughly appreciated them. They had come this far, guideless, in the journey of life, and had done well and bravely; but now Susie, at least, had reached a point in the path where she needed help and counsel. She had come to him for it and he must give her the best he had. "Dad," she began, a little tremulously, "would you mind so _very_ much if I should m-marry and live in Europe? Of course," she added, hastily, to break the force of the blow, "you would come over very often and stay with us, and we would go over very often to see you." "So he _has_ spoken to you, has he?" laughed her father. "He told me he hadn't." "Spoken! You know about it? Oh, dad, what do you mean?" "I mean that a certain William Frederick Albert, of Markeld--I believe that's his name--or most of it--was in here a while ago and had the impudence to ask me to give you to him." "Oh!" gasped Susie, with flaming cheeks, and sank back in her chair and I dare say cried a little; but her father didn't see her, for his own eyes were full of tears. The moment passed, the tears were wiped away--"Tell me about it, dad," she said. "Tell you about it? I have told you!" "About what he said. How did he look?" "I dare say he looked about as he always does--a little pale around the gills, perhaps, as one usually does when one's performing an unpleasant duty!" "Dad!" "You don't mean to say you think he enjoyed it?" "They--they always have to do it in Europe," faltered Sue. "So I understand. But he said he hadn't told you." "He hasn't--he hasn't said a word." "Oh--_you_ just sort of scented it in the air, I suppose--sort of saw it coming." "Every woman can tell when a man is in l-love with her," explained Susie, with dignity, but boggling a little at the crucial word. "What did you tell him, dad?" "I told him to take you and welcome." "Now, dad, you mustn't tease!" "Well, then, I told him he'd better see you first, since you're the party principally concerned." "But you like him?" "Immensely!" Susie's arms were about his neck, and her cheek was against his cheek, and a pearly tear plashed down upon his shirt-front. "Oh, you dear dad!" she cried. "I knew you'd like him!" "He seems a pretty straight sort of fellow," observed her father, "he looks clean, and he talks like a man." "And you won't mind so very much?"