“But it’s true,” he said; “and—and I’m in love, Dad—Dad, I’m in
love.”
He leaned his arms on the table, and his head on his arms.
“Well,” I said, “how did _you_ get to know her?”
“Business,” he muttered, “pure business. I just answered her
advertisement—took her some of my twaddle. She’s an orphan—daughter
of a Captain Gray, navy man; and—and she’s an angel.”
“I hope he is,” I answered. “But anyhow, that settles it. There’s no
marrying and giving in marriage in heaven.”
He looked up.
“You don’t mean it? No! you dearest and most indulgent of old Dads!
Tell me where she is.”