Monica ran about among them with her five-year-old prattle, ever watched by her father, who lounged in a canvas chair against the sunny ivied wall, pipe in mouth.

Dr.Madden was thinking how happy they made him, these kind, gentle girls; how his love for them seemed to ripen with every summer; what a delightful old age his would be, when some were married and had children of their own, and the others tended him--they whom he had tended.

Virginia would probably be sought in marriage; she had good looks, a graceful demeanour, a bright understanding.

Gertrude also, perhaps.

And little Monica--ah, little Monica! she would be the beauty of the family.