"My dear, marriage is a gate at once solemn and beautiful. When it is used as a door of escape it opens into a dark forest abounding with terrible wild beasts and hideous crawling things, but if one opens it with love's key, I can't tell you what it leads to, for I have never been there, but I believe it is the gateway to the Elysium fields that lie just on the hither side of heaven." Nannie looked up into the grave eyes and saw something of tenderness, something of reverence there that was new to her. She had stepped into an unknown world and was awed. As she sat there all mockery and levity faded from her face, and in its place there crept a look of deep admiration and deep respect for this man, and something awoke in her soul. She said not a word--she had no words for such as this--but by and by she put her hand into Steve's. "For life, Nannie?" he asked. "Yes," she said, and burst into tears. V A lover's ecstasy is ofttimes cut short by the reflection that he has yet to face that awful bugbear--the old folk. There is something terrible about age, it would seem, not only to its possessor, but even to those who must encounter it second hand, and Steve was not without his qualms. Although in his wooing he had not for one moment lost his gentle self-possession, he had entirely forgotten about the ordeal of an interview with Nannie's guardians until she reminded him by saying with an impish chuckle: "Won't Aunt Frances be happy when she hears of this!" "Is she anxious that you should marry?" asked Steve with some wonder. Nannie looked at him with wide eyes for a moment. It seemed hardly possible that one could be so dull of comprehension, and yet there was no doubting Steve's grave, earnest expression. "Yes," was her only reply, but inwardly she was convulsed with laughter as she looked ahead and in thought rapidly sketched a scene. And so Steve walked up to his task with but a faint conception of its magnitude. "I have called, Mrs. Lamont," he said in his easy, gentlemanly way, "to ask for the hand of your niece. Nannie and I have had a little talk about it and understand each other, I think, and now we await your consent." "You surely don't _expect_ my consent," said Mrs. Lamont. Steve's shyness and gentleness seemed to return to him. "I really," he said hesitatingly, "had not thought of any reason why we should not have it." "Mr. Loveland--well, this is intensely trying to me. You've no idea, I am sure, how I dislike to be so plain; but _can_ you not understand that you are hardly a suitable match for Nannie? You are very poor, I believe." "Why, no," said Steve gently. He had a good position on a daily paper and his mother's little property had been disposed of to advantage, so that he had several thousand in bank now. To him, with his small needs and quiet tastes, this seemed like wealth.