’Iaminthetwenty-thirdyearofmylifehere，’hesaid，withacatchinhisbreaththatwasnotsomuchasobasanirrepressiblesoundofself-approval，themomentaryoutburstofanobleconsciousness。’ItisallIcoulddoformychildren——Ihavedoneit。Amy，mylove，youarebyfarthebestlovedofthethree；I
havehadyouprincipallyinmymind——whateverIhavedoneforyoursake，mydearchild，Ihavedonefreelyandwithoutmurmuring。’
Onlythewisdomthatholdsthecluetoallheartsandallmysteries，cansurelyknowtowhatextentaman，especiallyamanbroughtdownasthismanhadbeen，canimposeuponhimself。
Enough，forthepresentplace，thathelaydownwithweteyelashes，serene，inamannermajestic，afterbestowinghislifeofdegradationasasortofportiononthedevotedchilduponwhomitsmiserieshadfallensoheavily，andwhoselovealonehadsavedhimtobeevenwhathewas。
Thatchildhadnodoubts，askedherselfnoquestion，forshewasbuttoocontenttoseehimwithalustreroundhishead。Poordear，gooddear，truest，kindest，dearest，weretheonlywordsshehadforhim，asshehushedhimtorest。