A feeling, pitiful as a mother would have for her suffering baby, took possession of his soul,--a longing to shield and protect her.

Tears blinded him; a great sob swelled in his throat; he made a step forward as she came into the room.

"Papa," she said, without looking up, "you wanted me ?" There was no response.

"Papa!" In an instant an arm enfolded her; a presence, tender and strong, bent above her; a voice, husky with crowding emotions, yet sweet with all the sweetness of love, breathed, "My darling! my darling!" as _his_ fair, sunny hair swept her face.
Even then she remembered another scene, remembered her promise; even then she thought of him, of his future, and struggled to release herself from his embrace.
What did he say?
what could he say?
Where were the arguments he had planned, the entreaties he had purposed?
where the words with which he was to tell his tale, combat her refusal, win her to a willing and happy assent?
All gone.
There was nothing but his heart and its caresses to speak for him.
Silent, with the ineffable stillness he kissed her eyes, her mouth, held her to his breast with a passionate fondness,--a tender, yet masterful hold, which said, "Nothing shall separate us now." She felt it, recognized it, yielded without power to longer contend, clasped her arms about his neck, met his eyes, and dropped her face upon his heart with a long, tremulous sigh which confessed that heaven was won..