Young Mr. Houghton probably finds that his
father is as adverse to his thoughts of you as ever. He has himself also
had time for many second thoughts, and--"
"Papa," said the girl, with a reproachful glance, "you have not yet
learned to do George Houghton justice. At the same time I wish neither you
nor any one else to give him the slightest hint of my feelings, nor to say
anything to him of my illness and what occurred in the boat. He asked
permission to pay his addresses, and he's got to pay them, principal and
interest, if I wait till I am as gray as you are. Dear papa, how you must
have suffered! To think that one's hair should turn white so soon! Haven't
I got a little gray, too?"
She looked at herself in the mirror, but the late afternoon sun turned her
light tresses, which she never could keep smooth, into an aureole of gold.
Mr. Houghton rallied slowly, but grew calmer and more rational with time.
He wished to see his confidential clerk on business, but Dr. Devoe said
gently but firmly, "Not yet." He began to permit, however, a daily written
statement from the office that all was going well. During this
convalescence George felt that he must take no middle course. He resolved
to have no further communication with Captain Bodine, and not to do
anything which, if it came to his father's knowledge, would retard his
recovery. One thing, however, he was resolved upon. In carrying out his
father's wishes he would draw the line at an ambitious alliance at the
North.
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