"Indeed--why not?" "We don't give up our best friends, those who have won upon our hearts most, in a hurry." "Do you mean that for me, or is that another side to your confounded obstinacy? Won't you give her up to me, her father?" "If you wish it. I cannot set myself in opposition to you. The remembrance of a dear father of my own would not lead me, did I possess the power, to stand in opposition to you." "You--will side with me, then, in telling her that it is not right to stay here?" "Not right! You thought so once?" "Not for an instant." "She is here with your consent?" "Did she tell you that? Don't please say that my Mattie ever told you that?" Sidney considered. No, she had not said so, he remembered. "She came against my will, full of a foolish idea of doing you good, and no power of mine could stop her," said Gray. "Against your will?" "I said she did," said Mr. Gray, sharply; "don't you believe me?" "Yes--I believe you. But this is very singular." Sidney bit his nails, and reflected on this new discovery. After a few moments he said, "Mr. Gray, I have been forgiving you all the past torture for the sake of your kindness in allowing Mattie to constitute herself my guardian." "Rubbish!" "My guardian angel, I might say; for she has saved me from despair, and turned my thoughts away from many deep and bitter things. I was turning against myself, my life, my God, in the very despair of being of use in the world, and she saved me. Do you blame her coming now?" Mr. Gray took time to consider that question. He bit his nails in his turn, and looked steadily at the young man, who had altered very much for the better. "I don't find fault with the result--there!" and Mr. Gray looked as though he had made a great concession. "You would not be a true minister if you did," said Sidney; "and you are not a true father if you don't value the sterling gold in Mattie's character. Pure gold, with no dross in the crucible--not an atom's worth, as I'm a living sinner!" "We're all living sinners, young man," said he, getting up and beginning to pace the room, as he had paced it, preaching meanwhile, a month ago, and nearly driven Sidney Hinchford out of his mind. "Do you object to sitting down?" asked Sidney, after bearing with these heavy perambulations for a time. "Presently; I am going to speak to you in a minute." "Not in the old fashion, please," said Sidney, quite plaintively; "although I can put up with more now; for Mattie's sake I'll even listen to a sermon, if you'll give me fair warning when you're going to begin, and how long it is likely to last." "For your soul's sake, as well as Mattie's, you mean, I hope?" "Anything--anything you like!" "As careless of heavenly matters as ever, I believe. The task of reformation still unperformed--perhaps left for me, unworthy instrument that I am." "Exactly." "Eh?" "We are all unworthy instruments as well as living sinners, you know," said Sidney, drily.