And when he came home after the two years in Europe, filled with great thoughts and vast pretentions of a singularly unromantic nature, he found her so much lovelier than before that where once he had shyly coveted he now desired with a fervour that swept him headlong into a panic of dread lest he had waited too long and that he had irretrievably lost her while engaged in the wretchedly mundane and commonplace pursuit of trifles. He was intensely amazed, therefore, to discover that she had loved him ever since she was a child in short frocks. He expected her to believe him when he said to her that she was the loveliest of all God's creatures, but it was more than he could believe when she declared that he was as handsome as a Greek god. That, of course, to him was a ludicrous thing to say, a delusion, a fancy that could not be explained, and yet he had seen himself in a mirror a dozen times a day, perhaps, without even suspecting, in his simplicity, that he was an extremely good-looking chap and well worth a second glance from any one except himself. The announcement did not come as a surprise to old Mr. Thorpe. He had been expecting it. He realised that Braden's dilatory tactics alone were accountable for the delay in bringing the issue to a head. "And when do you expect to be married?" he had inquired, squinting at his grandson in a somewhat dubious manner. "Within the year, I hope," said Braden. "Of course, I shall have to get a bit of a start before we can think of getting married." "A bit of a start, eh? Expect to get enough of a practice in a year to keep Anne going, do you?" "We shall live very economically." "Is that your idea or hers?" "She knows that I have but little more than two thousand a year, but, of course, it won't take much of a practice to add something to that, you know." "Besides, you can always depend upon me to help you out, Braden,—that is, within reason," said the other, watching him narrowly out of his shrewd old eyes. Braden flushed. "You have done more than enough for me already, grandfather. I can't take anything more, you see. I'm going to fight my own way now, sir." "I see," said Mr. Thorpe. "That's the way to talk, my boy. And what does Anne say to that?" "She thinks just as I do about it. Oh, she's the right sort, granddaddy, so you needn't worry about us, once we are married." "Perhaps I should have asked what her mother has to say about it." "Well, she gave us her blessing," said his grandson, with a happy grin. "After she had heard about your plan to live on the results of your practice?" "She said she wasn't going to worry about that, sir. If Anne was willing to wait, so was she." "Wait for what?" "My practice to pick up, of course. What do you mean?"