There was his daughter, his wonderful Zoe.

He drew his eyes from the distance, and saw that her ardent look was not towards him, but towards one whom she had known but a few weeks.
Suddenly he stopped in the middle of a verse, and broke forward with his arms outstretched, laughing.

He felt that he must laugh, or he would cry; and that would be a humiliating thing to do.
"Come, come, my friends, my children, enough of that!" he cried.

"We'll have no more maundering.

Fifty years--what are fifty years! Think of Methuselah! It's summer in the world still, and it's only spring at St.Saviour's.