"Wilmot & Brown, you said. They're on Mission, aren't they?"
Roger looked puzzled, until he recalled the position he had found for Anne, and laughed. "You're not going to bother with that now."
"I certainly am. Why not?"
"You're engaged."
Anne giggled. "Not yet. I haven't seen them."
"I'm not joking. Listen." He drew her to a doorway from the hurrying stream. "Don't, dear, please. I don't like to think of you tied down in an office, and anyhow it's not worth while. We're going to be married soon."
Anne looked away confused, partly because of the strange feeling it gave to realize herself engaged, partly at the imminence of the wonderful, new experience of matrimony waiting her; and, beyond her own acknowledgment in words, curiosity as to how Roger planned to marry without a position. In the sweet intimacy of the trip from Quincy, Roger had talked of the future, a future that exhilarated and frightened Anne in its possibility.
"We're going to live for something worth while," Roger had said, "and live for it with every scrap of the stuff that's in us."
Anne's eyes came back to him with a tender smile.
"But we're not going to be married to-day. Besides, I——" Anne had not spoken much of her family yet, but at these definite words of Roger's about marrying, Anne realized what a difference it would make when her income into the house had stopped, especially to many little pleasures she had accustomed her mother. "There are lots of things I want to get and—and—I like to work, really I do."