Danny looked at his daughter, who was staring out the window of the kitchen while sitting at the table. Unusually, the Varga wasn't present in person, but he could tell she was talking to him by minute changes to her expression, which was otherwise rather blank. He followed her eyes but could see nothing particularly unusual outside, it being a rainy start to the day after the remnants of a north Atlantic storm had blown down from Canada overnight. Swirls of wind caused the rain to skitter down the street and occasionally spray onto the windows, but long practice and experience told him it would most likely clear by the afternoon.

Of course, the weather report he'd listened to ten minutes earlier helped too.

Looking back at her, he decided to leave her to her thoughts for a while and headed for the fridge, opening it and removing various ingredients. It was unusually late for breakfast, but then it was Sunday and after the long and successful, although tiring, previous day, he'd stayed in bed an extra hour and a half. Now that the first train had left on schedule, a lot of the pressure of the previous weeks had died down a little so there was no urgency for today. They couldn't slack off but he'd told everyone not to worry about rushing around today and to relax and had then taken his own advice.

Taylor he knew had got home very late, or more accurately very early, at nearly six am. It didn't worry him because he knew these days she needed little sleep and could more than take care of herself, but even so that was a little unusual. Glancing at her as he cracked eggs into a bowl, he studied her expression. She appeared faintly sad, and very thoughtful. He hoped nothing bad had happened, but knew from past times that it was best to let her think things through. At least in these post-Varga days she didn't bottle things up for months, and he admitted with a sense of internal shame that he no longer did either.

When he put a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes in front of her she twitched, looking surprised and having apparently been so focused on her thoughts that she'd completely missed the entire process of cooking. Looking down at the plate, then up at him, she blinked a few times, then smiled.

"Thanks, Dad," she said quietly. Moments later 'Saurial' appeared next to her as the demon put in an appearance. He put another place in front of her second aspect with a slight feeling of amusement, then got his own, sitting at his place and pouring some coffee.

Having taken a sip, he put the mug down and inspected both variants of his pride and joy. "Want to talk about it?" he asked, picking up his knife and fork.

The Varga aspect looked at him, then her, but said nothing, merely adding a little pepper to his own plate, then starting to eat slowly. Taylor's more human version kept her eyes on him for several seconds, then sighed, before also adding pepper and a little salt to her eggs.

"Sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to be all moody. It's just..." She sighed again. "I saw something last night that was… bad. In a way that made me think."

He nodded, chewing a mouthful of bacon and eggs. After swallowing, he said, "Go on. It might help to talk to someone other than him. Another viewpoint." He glanced at the demon who nodded, unoffended.

She stared at the plate for a moment. Raising her eyes, she replied, "I can't tell you why. But we had to go to Newfoundland for a good reason. We found..." She trailed off, while he closed his eyes for a moment. "A hell of a lot of people died there," she added after a couple of seconds, sounding depressed. "There are… remains. Everywhere." As he watched, a tear rolled down her face. The Varga put his hand on her shoulder for a couple of seconds. "I mean, I knew the figures. I've read it in school, I've seen the news and all the things on TV about Endbringer attacks… But no one talks about what it smells like. What it tastes like. Even six years later, and under water."

She fell silent again, while he put his fork down and just watched her. Another tear slid down her cheek, making her wipe it away, then pick up her own fork. "Varga has shown me more things than I could ever explain to anyone else, some horrible and some wonderful. I've experienced death in his memories, and those of Luna's." She picked at the eggs with the fork, her head resting on her hand, elbow propped on the table. No one said anything for a moment. "It's different when you see it for yourself, especially on that scale. All those people, and there's nothing I can do."

Her voice for the last few words was utterly disconsolate. Getting up, he went around to the other side of the table, bent down, and hugged her very hard. She leaned her head into his neck and cried.

"Taylor. Listen to me." Gently moving her face to look at his, he smiled. "You are a very good person, and so is your enormous friend. You have more power than probably anyone else on the planet, Scion excepted. Maybe. But you can't save everyone. No one can. Between you, you and your friends have made an enormous difference to me, the Union, the city, and I have no doubt in time the country and the world. But even demon magic, Parahuman powers, whatever Amy is, and all the rest of it, cannot save everyone. I know you know that, and I know Varga has also told you the same thing. Knowing it and accepting it are two different things, though."

He wiped tears from her face with his hand, smiling gently at her. "There will always be things you can't help with, no matter how hard you try. I expect not many things, but they'll be there. Please don't think that reflects badly on any of you, because it doesn't. You matter. All of you, to me and everyone else. Nobody expects you to fix everything, and you shouldn't hold yourself to an impossible standard. All that will do is drive you crazy." His smile widened a little. "Crazier, I mean."

She smiled back a little tentatively.

"Don't fall into the same trap Amy was stuck in for so long, dear. As I believe I may have told you in the past, someone once said, 'Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.' There is wisdom in those words. It's important to keep that in mind, I think. Very difficult, I admit, but important, especially for someone with your power."

Stroking her hair, he waited until she nodded, then released her. His eyes met those of the demon, who looked pleased and a little impressed. "In your case, there are probably few things you can't change, given time and effort. The people who went down with Newfoundland, that's one of them. Same as with all the rest. Please accept that and move on, OK? Don't dwell on it."

He squeezed her shoulder, then went back to his seat and picked up his fork, watching as she scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"Thanks, Dad," she said in the end, her eyes still sad but brighter. "That helps."

"Any time, Taylor."

Her smile was gratifying. It turned mischievous for a moment. "Although… You've certainly spent a lot of time in the past dwelling on things you can't change. A certain ferry springs to mind."

He chuckled. "As I said, it's difficult. And I have certainly not always been able to live up to that standard. Both with the ferry and… in other ways." All of them knew what he was talking about. "We're Heberts. We're the most stubborn bastards in the city. Sometimes in ways that aren't ideal, unfortunately." He shrugged as she giggled a little, looking sad and thoughtful simultaneously, since she had her own background in the bad times. "But even we can learn in the end."

"And, of course, who is to say what changes will occur in the future, considering everything that's happened to date?" the Varga said with a smile of his own, speaking for the first time. "Even such things as the ferry may well come to pass."

"That would be nice," Danny grinned. "Let's finish cleaning things up first, though. No sense trying to do everything at once. The city is changing pretty fast as it is, all of it for the better, so I think I can let that go at the moment. It was my rallying point for a hell of a long time, through good times and bad, but it may have served its purpose for now."

"As I've said before, Danny Hebert, you are a man wise beyond your years, and someone I am proud to call a friend," the demon intoned in a deliberately formal manner, before looking amused. "And, as I have always thought and despite past issues, a good and loving father for my Brain."

"Thanks," he replied, picking up his coffee again and saluting the second aspect with it. "I'd like to think that was true, even with the mistakes I've made."

"Trust me and my many, many years of watching humans, it is." The reptilian figure opposite him nodded back, then resumed eating. Taylor, after glancing between them with a small smile, did the same, this time looking like she was enjoying it.

They ate in silence, but his daughter seemed happier now, and was improving the whole time. He couldn't blame her for her melancholy as it must have been pretty bad to have even made the demon beside her look somewhat down. He could imagine that even after all this time, at the depth they'd probably been and due to the resulting temperature that there could well be a lot of traces of all the poor bastards who died on that terrible day. He wouldn't have liked to have seen it for himself, merely picturing it in his mind was bad enough.

When they finished eating, she helped him wash up, then all three of them went into the living room and sat down. Outside, the rain had turned to sleet, but was also diminishing in intensity. He glanced out at the window as a car went past, spraying semi-frozen water across the sidewalk. "I'll be very glad when this winter is finally over," he remarked with feeling. "Seems to have gone on for a lot longer than usual. Some mornings I think it's been a couple of years since I last saw green grass."

Taylor smiled a little. "I could certainly do with some good hot sun," she agreed. "You remember that year we went up to the mountains on holiday? It was so hot."

"That was a good time," he replied, thinking back to when she was nine. "Just the three of us in the woods, and a lot of barbecues." He smiled in a slightly sad way, thinking yet again of his wife, who never left his thoughts for long. The pain was slowly getting better but even so, it hurt. Still, he reflected, looking at his daughter and her current duplicate sitting on the sofa next to her, he had a lot to be thankful for here and now.

He still wondered what Annette would have made of all this, though. Most likely even more chaos than Taylor and her friends could manage on their own, thinking about it…

"We should take a holiday this year if the weather gets nice again," he suggested. "Go somewhere we haven't before."

"Mars?" she asked innocently, before giving him an evil grin.

He stared, then sighed. "You could probably do it too. No, I was more thinking of the Grand Canyon or something. Other planets are a little out of my comfort zone at the moment." She looked comically sad, making him chuckle. "Don't overdo it. And I'm sure that in time I will adapt."

"You strike me as a very adaptable person, Danny," the Varga smiled.

"I'm trying hard, you can be sure of that," he replied vehemently, making the demon snicker. "So, sadness aside, did your mission to the bottom of the ocean succeed?"

"Yep, it probably did, actually," his daughter smiled, looking happier. "We won't know for sure for a while and we're going to have to do some research and careful experimentation first, but with any luck things will work out well. And we can help someone as a result." He wondered who that would be but didn't ask, respecting her privacy.

"Excellent, I'm pleased to hear that. And did your meeting with Dragon also go well?"

"It did, very well indeed," the demon nodded. "She succeeded in duplicating Kevin's tricorder, is convinced that the audio inducer is next, and signed the contracts you provided for the wormhole generator. Kevin is very pleased, as you might imagine. And, I expect, is currently making a list of everything he can think of to repair and hand off to Dragon to see if she can repeat the feat."

Danny smiled at the comment. "I can imagine that's made his day. The young man has come up with some remarkable inventions over the years, just going by the news. Mostly used for somewhat nefarious purposes, of course, but he and his friend do seem to be trying to change for the better."

"They're really interesting people," Taylor put in. "I consider them good friends now."

"Glad to hear it." He shook his head a little, studying her. "You two do seem to have a remarkable effect on former villains. Most people, in fact, but it's really noticeable with the people on the wrong side of the law. Every day I'm wondering which new villain will turn up and want to go straight..." Danny smiled as she laughed. "I mean, the entire Undersiders, Leet and Über, the Tinker formerly known as Squealer, from what I hear even Lung is being oddly calm these days… Although if he turns up looking for work, I may have to retire."

Taylor giggled. "I very much doubt Lung will turn up looking for work, Dad. But when I talked to him, he seemed… less angry… than I'd expected."

"Have you decided on a place for your little sparring match yet?" he asked, still bemused about the calm manner he was talking about his fifteen year old daughter and one of the most dangerous capes in the world arranging a fist fight over a matter of honor. Six months ago, he'd have thought it was insane.

It still was, of course, but in an entirely different way. And he was fairly sure that Taylor wasn't the one most at risk. When she'd told him about it a while back, even so, he'd had to go and sit down for a while to get his mind around the whole idea.

"Dragon has managed to get the Canadian government to allow us to use a military test range way up north somewhere to test the big gun," she replied thoughtfully. "That's probably a good place, since from what she said it's a long way from anything people value, including other people. I'll wait until after we've seen what happens with the gun, but I'll ask her then if it would be OK."

"Make sure you video it, whatever happens," he requested. "I suspect it will be impressive."

"Oh, don't worry," the Varga smiled. "We intend to. It could be most instructive for future study if nothing else."

"Probably worth a fortune too," he nodded.

Taylor was visibly thinking again. "When you say it like that, it's weird the way we have this effect on people. It's nothing we're doing on purpose, but I see what you mean. Even the Endbringer thing, which is the weirdest part of all. I still don't know why they'd be afraid of me, or us, but Lisa is convinced of it, her power seems to be too, and everything she's shown me says she's right." She looked at him, then the demon. "We're not that scary, are we? To scare someone like Leviathan? Who could do something like Newfoundland."

He pondered the matter for a moment. "My feeling is that it's more than likely it's your potential that scares them, not what you're doing. They're worried about what you might do." Shrugging, he added, "I might be wrong. Maybe they're just allergic to demons. Or it's all some Simurgh plot. It's apparently always a Simurgh plot, after all."

"She did run away as soon as Lisa started the wormhole during the last attack," the Varga commented. "Her deductions implied that the Endbringer used that opportunity to break free of whatever or whoever is controlling them. An eventuality I find extremely disturbing, since it implies the entire situation is deliberate, as we've discussed. But who is behind that is currently a mystery. I very much doubt they have the best interests of humanity in mind, though."

Danny shivered a little. Ever since Taylor had told him their deductions and evidence for both the possible origins of Parahuman abilities and the Endbringer situation, he'd been wondering if they could possibly be correct. It all seemed to hang together, far better than he was comfortable with, even if it was missing large and critical parts. Still, it sounded crazy even in this world.

And the idea that the Simurgh posted on PHO still put the wind up him, as did the thought he'd actually replied to her more than once.

That was just wrong.

"The whole affair scares the crap out of me, to be honest," he admitted. "I almost hope you're wrong in some ways. But I also can't deny everything you've told me seems self consistent even if it is terrifying. Have you learned anything else about it yet?"

"Well, we now know that the Assassin's Cloak spell works on them too," Taylor told him. "Which is useful, since with damn Leviathan sitting exactly on the other side of the planet from me all the time sort of gives away more information than I'm happy about to some people. At least the cloak lets us bypass that."

"It's a good thing that the antipode of Brockton Bay is in the middle of the ocean hundreds of miles from the nearest land," he suggested. "It would be more than inconvenient if you'd managed to get Leviathan running in circles somewhere people lived."

"God, that would be horrible," she said faintly.

"On the other hand, you seem to be keeping all three of them from attacking merely by existing, so that's probably about as good as it gets."

"Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing if that situation will continue indefinitely." The Varga sighed very quietly. "It's possible that this mystery controller will manage to reestablish control over them and force them to attack regardless. Assuming it really exists, which I personally think is the case."

"I hate the Endbringer attacks," Taylor grumbled. "More than I can really say, especially after last night and what we saw. But at the same time, if someone is really forcing them into being weapons and they don't actually want to kill people, I'm… not sure I can hate them."

"It's still possible that they resent being controlled, not being destructive," the demon pointed out reasonably. She looked at her other aspect, then nodded.

"I know, but… I'm not sure I really believe that. Maybe I'm just trying to see the good where there isn't any, but..." Taylor shook her head. "I don't know. We don't have enough information. Sooner or later we need to work it out."

"Have you thought of simply asking?" Danny said after a short pause. "I mean, if the Simurgh is using PHO and apparently is asking Lisa for help, maybe that's the easiest method. As crazy as it sounds."

"We discussed that," she replied, frowning, "And Lisa isn't sure it's a good idea. Too many ways of the information leaking. Having the Family associated with the Endbringers is sort of exactly the wrong idea we want to get across. We went to a lot of effort to try to avoid that when I moved the tanker, after all."

"Hmm. Yes, a valid point." All of them thought some more, until he said, "I can't think of an instant method to help, I'm afraid. But if I do come up with anything I'll let you know."

"Thanks, Dad," Taylor smiled. "We'll get there sooner or later."

"I know you will, dear."

They were silent again, this time in a comfortable way, for a while. Eventually, he said, "You know, your effect on people, Endbringers aside, may be explainable at least partly because you do the right thing." Both the others looked at him curiously, so he expanded on his thought. "People tend to follow the actions of people they look up to in some way. Not even people they personally like, sometimes, but people that are in a position of authority and that they respect for one reason or another. Take Legend. He's got a reputation as a decent and honest man who genuinely cares and tries to do the right thing. From what I've heard even a lot of villains respect the man, which is impressive."

"Mr Foot is a nice guy," Taylor smiled, making him snicker. That nickname was never going to go away, he was certain. The number of people who seemed to delight in using it online and off was hilarious. He'd even heard one newsreader say it live on air although the man had quickly corrected himself.

"Having met him, I'd agree. But even before that, I knew his reputation, and as far as I can tell it's honestly earned." He looked at both of them, his daughter's aspects listening with interest. "Like you told me when all this started, reputation is key, one way or the other. I think that counts for more than capes, too. Legend is famous, he's liked by almost everyone even if they're on the other side, and I suspect a lot of people look up to him as an example of how to act. Not to mention the effect he had on gay rights when he came out, of course. That was remarkable."

"And you think I have that sort of effect somehow?" she asked, sounding somewhat surprised.

"Not just you. The entire Family. You lot are also famous now, possibly more so than Legend is. And you go round not beating up villains and wrecking the street, but just helping out generally, which is really odd when you're used to the usual Parahuman stuff," he replied thoughtfully. "You fix the roads, without being asked and not even mentioning it. You helped with the tanker move, but didn't take credit for it. Amy's going to end up giving the world the most significant public health improvement ever, and she doesn't even want money for it. The Family pitches in wherever it's needed, and just gets on with things. I think people notice, even if it's subconscious. And I think that is at least one reason that things seem to have calmed down around here."

Danny grinned briefly. "The idea that a pissed Kaiju might jump up and down on them probably also deters the less honest people, I agree, but I doubt it's entirely being shit-scared of that that's doing it. It might have been at first, but now?" He shook his head. "If it was only that I'd have expected some idiot to have come looking for trouble by now, someone who thought he'd build his own reputation by taking on the weird lizards. I doubt that would end well, but it hasn't happened. There has to be some reason for that considering the number of crazy capes around the place."

"It's an intriguing thought, Danny," the Varga said with interest. "And a plausible one, I agree. The mere presence of a demon tends to cause odd effects as I've explained before. I would certainly concur that even taking that into consideration, along with the sheer worry about what the Family can really do, it's oddly quiet in the city, if not the entire state, considering the historical background of this area."

Taylor was looking mildly dubious. "You really think that us going around being helpful has that much effect?"

"I do, actually. Look at it from the point of view of someone who doesn't know anything of the real truth. Crazy lizards turn up, crime drops like a stone. More crazy lizards turn up, crime drops even faster." He smiled as she nodded slowly. "Even more crazy lizards keep turning up, some of them so large they'd have to duck to get into an airship hangar, and not only does crime drop to historical lows, all three main gangs more or less cease operations completely. Then one of those gangs gets completely trashed with no casualties or effort, the tanker gets moved, the DWU ends up working harder than it has for decades, which is already having a noticeable knock on effect on the local economy… Roads are getting fixed where the potholes are old enough to vote, random things around the city seem to suddenly work again, you name it."

Spreading his hands, he said, "It sure looks good even if you don't like Parahumans or lizards. No one can deny that things are better around here. And maybe, just maybe, some people on the wrong side of the law look at who's responsible and think, 'Perhaps we don't need to keep doing this...' That's pretty much what happened with Über and Leet after all."

She thought about it, then nodded once more. "I guess. I'm still not sure that in just two months or so we could have that much effect."

"Did you not hear what I just said, dear?" he asked with good humored patience. "All that has happened in 'just two months'. I can assure you that people have noticed. Between you, you lot have done more since January than the rest of the city has managed in years. And with all the stuff you're going to do for the police, and the fire department, and the PRT, and anyone else who will stand still long enough, who knows where it will end? You've built an awful lot of good will for yourselves already, and for the DWU and Roy too. I can guarantee that he realizes this very well. You've handed him the next election on a plate if nothing else, even if you don't do anything else between now and then. And he's well aware of that and, if I know the man, won't forget it."

She was silent for a moment, until she said, "Huh. I haven't really sat down and though about it like that much, but I guess you have a point." His daughter smiled brilliantly. "We helped."

"You have helped enormously, Taylor. Heroes come in different versions. Yours is the type that just gets on with things." He smiled back. "We could do with more of that type, I think."

"Amy's making them as fast as she can," the demon said dryly, making him burst out laughing.

"So I realize. That part is undoubtedly best kept secret."

Turning his attention back to his daughter, he added, "I hope that makes you feel better after your experience last night. Like I said, you can't save everyone. But just keep doing what you're doing and you'll help a hell of a lot of people. Not everyone can say that."

"Thanks, dad," she smiled. "It does help, yes. I won't forget what I saw, but I can deal with it."

"Good. Now, do you have anything bizarre planned for today? As if I didn't know the likely answer to that."

Taylor giggled. "Because of Dragon's visit, which took longer than we originally expected, I didn't manage to do a few things I was planning on yesterday, so I'm going to do them today. Make a lot of stuff for the cops and the fire guys, some more things for the PRT, I want to start making the DWU protective clothing too, and a couple of other things too."

"That's a lot of work for one day, even for you," he pointed out.

"Ah. I have a cunning plan that might make it much faster if it works," she grinned. "Tricky to do right, but it should be possible. Mass production, Family style."

"Hmm. That sounds a little ominous." He inspected her, but she didn't give any hints. "Try to keep the universe as intact as possible, we like it like it is."

"I doubt we'll break it too badly," her demon smiled.

"Just enough, right?"

"Exactly."

"We're also expecting a visit from Faultline and her people this afternoon," Taylor went on.

"Oh? Why?"

She frowned slightly. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. She sounded a little strange on the phone. But Lisa thinks we should talk, so I'm up for it. I guess we'll find out later."

He groaned. "Oh, lord. If Faultline's crew want to join the DWU I may stay home today..."

"I doubt it's that," she snickered. "I think she just wants to talk. I heard that they'd been out of town for weeks for some reason, so maybe they just came back and wanted to meet us? Something like that."

"Possibly. Oh, well, whatever it is I'm sure you can handle it." He looked at his watch. "I should think about going in at some point, but I have to say I'm quite relieved to be able to relax a little."

"It's great that things are going so well," she agreed. After a moment or two, she smiled as if she'd thought of something interesting, looking out the window at the scene outside. He did as well to see that the sleeting rain had stopped at some point while they were talking and there were patches of lighter sky where the clouds were clearing. "Hey, would you like to do something only two other people in the world have done so far?"

He looked suspiciously at her. "What?"

"Come down to the basement."

The Varga looked at her, then blinked out of existence. He studied her expression which was now showing suppressed glee, sighed, and stood up. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" he asked the world at large.

"No, you'll love it, Dad," she grinned, hopping to her feet. Pushing him towards the door, she added, "You'll need your coat."

"In the basement."

"Yep."

"Oh, god..."

She waited for him to retrieve the garment from the hook inside the front door and put it on, while standing at the door to the basement with her hand on the knob and a smile on her lips. When he was ready, she opened the door and waved him through. "After you."

Slightly uncertainly, he stepped through the door and started descending the stairs. Half-way down, he stopped dead and looked around in astonishment, then turned in place to fix her with a hard look.

"Taylor… How do I put this… The last time I was down here, a mere two days ago as it happens, it was about fifty feet square."

She nodded, grinning.

"I can't help but notice that it is now large enough to hold a baseball game in. Including the stands."

"It was a little cramped," she explained with a look of contented happiness. "We fixed that."

"So it would appear." He turned back and stared down the stairs which now went on for about two hundred steps. Rather incongruously there was a landing at the level of the former basement floor with a door on it which he'd never seen before in his life. Reaching it, he opened it and peered in, seeing with a sense of bemusement that the entire contents of the former basement now had a room to themselves, which was occupying the space that should by rights include a portion of the neighbors basement too. Sighing, he closed the door and continued down the steps to the floor of the absurdly expanded space he now apparently had lurking under his house. Taylor and her demon had clearly been playing around with space again.

"You just can't see a room and not think 'You know, what this really needs is to be large enough so you need binoculars to see the far side,' can you?" he asked over his shoulder while he looked around, then up at the lights far above. These were the same sort of thing she'd put in their expanded BBFO facilities.

"It was a bit cramped for what we wanted to do," she replied. He was watching the Varga, who was doing something on the other side of the huge space, which he guessed was probably four hundred feet square at least. After a second or two, the distant scaly figure vanished and reappeared mere feet away. He was rather proud of himself for not even twitching, as used as he now was to this sort of thing.

"Done," the demon said. "Everything is tied off."

"Wonderful," his daughter replied. She walked past him and moved about fifty feet away. Abruptly there was a large black dragon where she'd been standing. This time, despite himself, he did twitch. Just a little.

It was still a somewhat startling sight, even knowing her abilities, he mused.

"Very nice, dear."

"Thanks," she said. Craning her head around, she looked at her back, where a saddle appeared. It changed a little, then she nodded, before looking back at him where he was watching.

A large toothy grin split her reptilian face, and she said the next sentence with a surprisingly good Spanish accent.

"Hello. My name is Taylor Hebert. You are my father. Prepare to fly."

He was still laughing as she made straps to hold him into the saddle he'd climbed into. Even when the weirdest sensation he'd ever felt heralded the ridiculous basement vanishing and being replaced with a sunny day far above the clouds, he kept snickering under his breath for some time.

She was totally mad in some ways, but he was exceptionally pleased how his daughter and his life had turned out, and absolutely certain that his wife would have approved.