"
"No; I meant just what I said. Is there stability in anything? In
what can I trust to-morrow? simply in nothing. My house may be in
ruins--burnt to the ground, at daylight. The friend to whom I loaned
my money to-day, to help him in his need, may fail me to-morrow, in
my need. The bank in which I hold stock may break--the ship in which
I have an adventure, go down at sea. But why enumerate? I am sure of
nothing."
"Not even of the love of your child?"
A warm flush came into the face of Mr. Fanshaw. He had one daughter
twelve years old.
"Dear Alice!" he murmured, in a softer voice. "Yes, I am sure of
that. There is no room for doubt. She loves me."
"One thing in which to have faith," said Mr. Wilkins. "Not in a
house which cannot be made wholly safe from fire; nor in a bank,
which may fail; nor in a friend's promise; nor in a ship at sea--but
in love! Are you afraid to have that love tried? If you were sick or
in misfortune, would it grow dim, or perish? Nay, would it not be
intensified?
"I think, Mr. Fanshaw," continued his friend, "that you have not
tested your faith by higher and better things--by things real and
substantial."
"What is more real than a house, or a ship, or a bill of exchange?"
asked Mr. Fanshaw.
"Imperishable love--incorruptible integrity--unflinching honor," was
replied.
"Do these exist?" Mr. Fanshaw looked incredulous.
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