He was also the most kind-hearted of men. “Seriously, Katherine,” he said, separating himself from her, drawing his legs together and frowning, “you’re over age. You can do what you like. In these days children aren’t supposed to consider their parents, and I don’t really see why they should ... it’s not much I’ve done for you. But you’re fond of us. We’ve rather hung together as a family.... I like your young man, but I’ve only known him a week or two, and I can’t answer for him. You know _us_, but you don’t know _him_. Are you sure you’re making a wise exchange?” Here Philip broke in eagerly but humbly. “It isn’t that there need be any change,” he said. “Katherine shall belong to you all just as much as ever she did.” “Thank you,” said Trenchard laughing. “I’ll be proud,” Philip cried, impulsively, jumping up from his chair, “if you’ll let me marry Katherine, but I’ll never forget that she was yours first. Of course I can’t come into the family as though I’d always been one of you, but I’ll do my best.... I’ll do my best....” “My dear boy,” said Trenchard, touched by the happy atmosphere that he seemed, with a nod of his head, to fling about him, “don’t think _I’m_ preventing you. I want everyone to be pleased, I always have. If you and Katherine have made up your minds about this, there isn’t very much for me to say. If I thought you’d make her miserable I’d show you the door, but I don’t think you will. All I say is—we don’t know you well enough yet. Nor does she. After all, does she?” He paused, and then, enjoying the sense of their listening attention, thought that he would make a little speech. “You’re like children in a dark wood, you know. You think you’ve found one another—caught hold of one another—but when there’s a bit of a moon or something to see one another by you may find out you’ve each of you caught hold of someone quite different. Then, there you are, you see. That’s all I can tell you about marriage; all your lives you’ll be in the forest, thinking you’ve made a clutch at somebody, just for comfort’s sake. But you never know whom you’re catching—it’s someone different every five minutes, even when it’s the same person. Well, well—all I mean is that you mustn’t marry for a year at least.” “Oh! a year!” cried Philip. “Yes, a year. Won’t hear of it otherwise. What do you say, Katherine?” “I think Philip and I can wait as long as that quite safely,” she answered, looking at her lover. Trenchard held out his hand to Philip. “I congratulate you,” he said. “If you’ve made Katherine love you you’re a lucky fellow. Dear me—yes, you are.” He put his hand on Philip’s shoulder. “You’d better be good to her,” he said, “or there’ll be some who’ll make you pay for it.” “Be good to her! My God!” answered Philip. “Now you’d better clear. Reveal yourselves to the family.... There, Katherine, my dear, give me a kiss. Don’t neglect me or I shall poison the villain.... There, there—God bless you.”