_Col. G._ (_raising him_). My boy! my boy! I wanted to do something for you--tried hard--and was foiled.--I doubly deserved it. I doubted as well as neglected you. But God is good. He has shamed me, and saved you. _Ger._ By your hand, father. _Col. G._ No--by his own. It would all have come right without me. I was unworthy of the honour, my boy. But I was allowed to try; and for that I am grateful.--Arthur, I come to you empty-handed--a beggar for your love. _Ger._ How dare you say that, father?--Empty-handed--bringing me her and your-self--all I ever longed for!--my father and my Psyche! Father, _thank_ you. The poor word must do its best. I thank you with my very soul.--How _shall_ I bear my happiness!--Constance, it was my father all the time! Did you know it? Serving me like a slave!--humouring all my whims!--watching me night and day!--and then bringing me-- _Con._ Your own little girl, Arthur. But why did you not tell me? _Ger._ Tell you what, darling? _Con._ That--that--that you--Oh! you know what, Arthur! _Ger._ How could I, my child, with that--!--Shall I tell you now? _Con._ No, no! I am too happy to listen--even to you, Arthur! But _he_ should never have--I did find him out at last. If I had but known you did not like him! (_hiding her face_.) _Ger._ (_embracing his father_) Father! father! I cannot hold my happiness! And it is _all_ your doing! _Col. G. No_, I tell you, my boy! I was but a straw on the tide of things. I will serve you yet though. I will be your father yet. _Bill_ (_aside_). Fathers ain't _all_ bad coves! Here's two on 'em--good sort of old Jacobs--both on 'em. Shouldn't mind much if I had a father o' my own arter all! GERVAISE _turns to_ CONSTANCE--_then glances at the Psyche_. COL. GERVAISE _removes the sheet_. GERVAISE _leads_ CONSTANCE _to the chair on the dais--turns from her to the Psyche, and begins to work on the clay, glancing from the one to the other--the next moment leaves the Psyche, and seats himself on the dais at_ CONSTANCE'S _feet, looking up in her face._ COL. GERVAISE _stands regarding them fixedly. Slow distant music._ BILL _is stealing away_. _Curtain falls._ THE END. End of Project Gutenberg's Stephen Archer and Other Tales, by George MacDonald