"Do you know, my child, there is something I have been wanting to say to you for a long time, and I may as well say it now." Elizabeth looked at him rather apprehensively: there was something significant in his manner.
"Something?
What do you mean ?" she faltered, "You have been a dear good daughter to me," he went on, clearing his throat from a slight huskiness, "and if you were my own flesh and blood you could not be more to me.

We have so much in common, have we not, my dear--and then we both loved David." "Yes--yes," she murmured, and the ready tears sprang to her eyes.
"We mourned for our dear boy together," he went on slowly, "and groped our way hand in hand through the darkness.

How unhappy we were three years ago! Even now it is painful to look back on those days, but, thank God! time and His grace have helped us, and we no longer suffer." "I am not so sure of that," returned Elizabeth in a low voice; but he seemed not to hear her.
"You have been very faithful, Elizabeth.

If you had been David's widow you could not have mourned for him more deeply; but, as David's father, I would bid you mourn no more." She stared at him with parted lips, but the words would not come.
"Why should you spoil your life, Elizabeth?
You are only thirty-five, and please God there are many, many years before you.

Why is your heart to be empty and your arms unfilled because our precious boy is in paradise?
Do you know, my dear, we often spoke of this--he and I.Thank God, there were no secrets between us, and he told me more than once that the thought of your future was always on his mind." Elizabeth bowed her head on her hands.