"Laura's prospects are very bright," says the mother, in a kind of exultant tone. "She is engaged to a young man every way unexceptionable, and was to have been married in the spring. She is very anxious now—you see no one can have any money until——"
"I can soon straighten such a bother. When would she like——"
"Mr. Delancy is very impatient now. It would be mortifying to confess that only a matter of wedding clothes stands between, when everything else is desirable."
"Consider that settled then."
"O Floyd! Laura will be so delighted!" There is relief in her tone, as well. A great anxiety has been dispelled.
The bell in the village up above peals off ten, and the still air brings it down with a touch of soft mystery.
"We ought to go back to the house," confesses the mother. "And I dare say you are tired, Floyd?"
"I have had a rather fatiguing day," he admits, though he feels as if he could fling himself down on the fragrant grass and stay there all night. It would not be the first time he has slept under a canopy of stars.
They retrace their steps, and Mrs. Grandon apologizes to her guest, who is sweetness itself, quite different from the Irene Stanwood of the past. There is a stir, and everybody admits that it is time to retire.
Floyd intercepts Laura in the hall, and wonders he has not remarked the flash of the diamond earlier, as she raises her plump hand.