"The book I was reading, or pretending to read, was a volume of the Ingersoll Lectures, bearing on the back the title _Human Immortality_. Once or twice I noticed the eyes of the woman resting on this, but I was greatly surprised when, in one of the pauses when I laid down the book, she said-- "'Would you mind my asking you a question?' "'Certainly not.' "'Do you believe in the Immortality of the Soul?' "As a teacher of philosophy I am accustomed to leading questions at all sorts of inopportune moments, but never in my life was I so completely taken aback. However, I collected my thoughts as best I could, and, though the subject is one on which I never like to speak without prolonged preparation, I briefly told her my opinions on that great problem, as you may find them expressed in my published works. Possibly I spoke with some fervour; the more likely, because I spoke without preparation. She listened with great attention; and as for the young girl, her face was lit up with a look of intelligent eagerness which, had I seen it for one moment in my own class-room, would have rewarded me for the labour of a long course of lectures. "I had still much to say when the train drew up at the platform of St Beeds. "'I'm sorry not to hear more,' said the lady, 'but this is our destination.' "'And there's Dad!' cried the girl. "A man in working clothes stood at the carriage-door. "'Good-bye,' said the woman, warmly shaking me by the hand; 'you have been most kind to me.' "'Good-bye,' said the daughter; 'you're a dear old dear!' "And with that she threw her arms round my neck and kissed me fervently three or four times. I was greatly surprised, but not altogether displeased. "They were evidently a most affectionate family. As the train moved off the three stood arm in arm before the carriage-door. "'Got two sweethearts to-night, sir,' said the man. "'And without jealousy,' said I. 'I congratulate you on each of them.' "'I hope you'll forgive my daughter,' he said; 'she's an impulsive little baggage.' "'She may repeat the offence the next time we meet,' I replied; and we all laughed. "It was a joyful ending to what had been, in some respects, a painful experience." * * * * * "I don't see the point of your story, Professor; and I am at a loss to imagine what it has to do with my introduction." This from the Pessimist. "The story has only begun," said the Professor, who was sipping his tea. "Those kisses at the end were jolly hard lines on a man who dislikes sentiment," said the Son of the House. "I didn't find them so," answered the Professor. "But remember, they were only the kisses of a child." "The best sort," growled the Pessimist. "True," said our Hostess. "The judgments of children are the judgments of God. But let the Professor go on." * * * * *