Sooner or later, time (I considered) would bring these two troublesome young people to their senses.

Their marriage would follow, and there would be an end of it! In the meanwhile, I continued to feast good Papa on Holy Families and churches.

Ah, poor dear, how he yawned over Caraccis and cupolas! and how fervently he promised never to fall in love again, if I would only take him back to Paris! We set our faces homeward a day or two after the receipt of Oscar's letter.

I left my reformed father, resting his aching old bones in his own easy-chair; capable perhaps, even yet, of contracting a Platonic attachment to a lady of his own time of life--but capable (as I firmly believed) of nothing more.

"Oh, my child, let me rest!" he said, when I wished him good-bye.