Dick could not bear to say No; and not only ever to his friends, but not even to his enemies, for his salvation, Dick could not endure to inflict pain, not only ever upon good people but not even upon sinners. And these amiable traits in his character were used by evil-disposed people to his injury. There was indeed so much of the woman in Dick’s gentle and lively nature that very few women could have loved him as Anna did. But then there was enough of the man in Anna’s nature to produce an equilibrium of the sexes in their union. General Lyon noticed all this, and he noticed something else—namely, that though Dick and Anna certainly loved each other devotedly, they bore their probation with exemplary patience. This touched the heart of the veteran, but still he would not shorten the time. Moreover, he felt the infirmities of age creeping upon him, he knew that at his years life was extremely precarious, and he certainly wanted to see another generation of Lyons in lineal descent from himself before he should go home and be no more on earth. Yet for all this he would not hasten the marriage of Dick and Anna. Drusilla, with her quick perceptions and warm sympathies, read the hearts of all around, and wished to make them happy. Like an artful little angel as she was, she chose her opportunity well. It was a lovely day in the latter part of April, and General Lyon and herself were sitting alone together in a front parlor where windows opened upon a conservatory in full bloom. Dick and Anna were gone on a visit of inspection of the works at Hammond House. The General had little Leonard in his arms. Drusilla was sewing beside them. “Ah, my dear, you do not know how much this little fellow adds to my happiness!” he said. “I am always so glad and grateful to hear you say that, dear uncle, and I hope little Leonard as he grows in intelligence will be more and more of a comfort to you,” she replied; and then, after a little pause, she said: “But if little Leonard, who is only my son, gives you so much content, how much joy Anna’s children will give you!” “I don’t know, my dear: and, besides, I may not live to see them.” “Dear uncle, you will live many years yet.” “I cannot hope to do that, my dear. I am past seventy. I have already lived out the threescore and ten years allotted as the natural term of a man’s life.” “But, dear uncle, I think all nature teaches us that a CENTURY is the natural term of a man’s life.” “A pleasant theory, my child. I wish it were a true one.” “But I think it is a true one.” “Why do you think so?”