Deeper than this, it had its roots not in belief but in instinct--in the bone and fibre of Stephen's character.

It was a part of that motive power which impelled him in the direction of the beaten road, of the established custom, of things as they have always been in the past.
Her kind heart was troubled; yet before the happiness in the girl's face what could she say except that she hoped Stephen was as fine as Patty believed him to be?
"You may be right.

I hope so with all my heart; but, oh, my dear, try not to care too much.

It never does any good to care too much." She stooped and kissed the girl's cheek.

"There, my car is at the door, and I must hurry back to the shop.