"She was fifteen a month ago;" said grandmere.
"Would you want me to get married?" she asked soberly, recalling the talk she could not confess for honor's sake.
"We are in no hurry," said grandmere. "Though I approve of early marriages. You settle to one another more easily. And women are happier in their own homes."
"I'll get father to put up an addition and bring my husband here;" she rejoined with a kind of reckless gayety. "I couldn't go very far away from you."
Her mother glanced up with fond eyes. And just then her father entered.
Most people at that time were little given to caressing ways. But his own had been much dearer to Bernard Carrick after his three years' absence, and now he kissed his daughter, taking her sweet face in both hands.
"Why, you look fresh as a rose. I half expected to find you in bed. Are you equal to a ride this afternoon?"
"Oh, yes; only—mother——" glancing at her.
"Can't mother spare you?"
"Yes, yes. There will be time enough to work, child."