“I don’t need the fire to read your futures,” he said. “I see happiness for all of you—all of you—for Leslie and Mr. Ford—and the doctor here and Mistress Blythe—and Little Jem—and children that ain’t born yet but will be. Happiness for you all—though, mind you, I reckon you’ll have your troubles and worries and sorrows, too. They’re bound to come—and no house, whether it’s a palace or a little house of dreams, can bar ’em out. But they won’t get the better of you if you face ’em together with love and trust. You can weather any storm with them two for compass and pilot.”
The old man rose suddenly and placed one hand on Leslie’s head and one on Anne’s.
“Two good, sweet women,” he said. “True and faithful and to be depended on. Your husbands will have honor in the gates because of you—your children will rise up and call you blessed in the years to come.”
There was a strange solemnity about the little scene. Anne and Leslie bowed as those receiving a benediction. Gilbert suddenly brushed his hand over his eyes; Owen Ford was rapt as one who can see visions. All were silent for a space. The little house of dreams added another poignant and unforgettable moment to its store of memories.
“I must be going now,” said Captain Jim slowly at last. He took up his hat and looked lingeringly about the room.
