My dear, I cannot take your hands in mine,"-- he glanced with a pathetic smile at his bandaged arms, but with a swift movement of indescribable grace the girl stooped and kissed him on the forehead.
"Barry," he said, turning to his son, "that was a fine courtesy.

I count it an honour to have known you, Miss Vincent." He paused a moment or two, his searching eyes still upon her face.
"You will befriend my boy, after--after--" "I will try my best, sir," said the girl, the colour deepening in her cheeks the while.

"Good night, sir," she said.

"I shall be near at hand if I am wanted." "Barry," said his father, after the girl had gone, "that is a very charming and a very superior young lady, one you will be glad to know." "Yes, dad, I am sure she is," said Barry, and then he told his father of the events of the previous night.
For some moments after he had finished his father lay with his eyes shut, and quite still, and Barry, thinking he slept, sat watching, his eyes intent upon the face he loved best in all the world.
But his father was not asleep.
"Yes, Barry," he said, "she is like your dear mother, and now," he added hurriedly, "I hope you will not think I am taking a liberty--" "Oh, dad, I implore you!" said Barry.
"Barry, I would like to speak to you about your work." Barry shook his head sadly.
"I'm not much good, dad," he said, "but I'm not going to quit," he added quickly, noting a shadow on his father's face.
"Barry, I'm going to say something to you which I do hope will not hurt you.

I know the common soldier better than you do, boy.