When he had made up his mind to do so, he found that she had by then met my father, and could not help seeing that they loved each other.

So he was silent.

He told me he had never said a word about it to anyone--not even to my Uncle Roger, though he knew from one thing and another, though he never spoke of it, that he would like it.

I could not help seeing that the dear old man regarded me in a sort of parental way--I have heard of such romantic attachments being transferred to the later generation.

I was not displeased with it; on the contrary, I liked him better for it.