‘Well, yes—yes, pleasant in the present, but a sad cause for anxiety when one looks into the future.’ Tor smiled again, for he was amused by Meredith’s solemnity of manner. ‘Perhaps, then, sir, it would be best to avoid doing so. The future generally manages to take care of itself, even without the benefit of our care.’ ‘Do not jest, Philip Debenham—do not jest on so deep a subject.’ ‘I am only speaking from experience,’ answered Tor lightly. ‘You must admit, looking back eighteen years, that the future dealt kindly by me.’ ‘The future of a woman is a very serious matter,’ continued Meredith, unwilling to be diverted from his point, ‘especially when she has beauty and wealth.’ ‘Those attributes are generally considered an advantage to anyone,’ suggested Tor. ‘You talk as if it added a load to your mind.’ ‘So it does, boy; so it does. You are not a father, or you would understand. My daughter is beautiful, you know. She is also something of an heiress, for her mother was rich, and we live now in Arcadian simplicity. I fear greatly for her future, when I am no more. Who will then watch over and guard her as I have done?’ ‘I should think,’ answered Tor, with gravity, ‘that Miss Meredith would not be long in finding a natural protector in the form of a husband, if once it were permitted to her to see more of the world.’ Michael Meredith smiled in his slow dreamy fashion. ‘You think her, then, so beautiful?’ ‘Undoubtedly so.’ ‘I can tell you, in all sincerity, that she is as good as she is beautiful.’ ‘I can believe it,’ answered Tor heartily. ‘I am convinced of it.’ ‘She has been the most devoted of daughters,’ continued the blind man, with deliberate emphasis, ‘and I am certain that she will be the most devoted of wives.’ ‘I should quite think so too,’ answered Tor, rather wondering whither all this was tending, but humouring the old man’s fancy, as his habit was. He did not for a moment doubt Roma’s perfections, but the subject was not of absorbing interest to him. The next question fairly startled him out of all his lazy indifference. ‘If you think all this, Philip Debenham—if you see her to be what she is, beautiful, devoted, unselfish—if you know her birth to be equal to yours, and her wealth not altogether disproportionate, why do you not ask her in marriage yourself, before any other man steps in to carry off the treasure?’ Tor sat silent and half stupefied for a moment. He had had a good many experiences in his lifetime before, but nothing quite like this. His ready _sang-froid_ almost deserted him for a moment, and he looked completely disconcerted. ‘I have not thought of getting married,’ he said, the colour mounting slowly in his face, though there was nobody to see it. ‘Then it is high time you began to do so,’ returned Michael Meredith, with something of judicial severity in his tone.