“All right,” he said. Then of a sudden he turned and faced her. “And is that all?” he pleaded.
“Oh, Tom, it ought to be!” she murmured.
“But, Nellie!” he pleaded, and drew her a little closer. Then for just an instant her head went down on his shoulder and she allowed him to kiss her. Then they joined the others, both feeling as if they were walking on air.
An hour later found everybody either in the house or on the veranda. Dora sat down to the piano and the other young folks gathered around to sing one favorite song after another, while the old folks listened. They sang some of the Putnam Hall songs, and tried several that were popular at Brill and at Hope.
“I like that even better than the fireworks,” murmured Mrs. Stanhope, to Anderson Rover.
“Well, I think I do, myself, Mrs. Stanhope,” he answered. And then he drew his rocking-chair a little closer to where the widow was sitting. “It seems to me that Dick and Dora match it off pretty well,” he continued, in a lower tone.
“Yes, Mr. Rover. And Dick is a fine young man—your sons are all fine young men. I shall never forget what they have done for me and for Dora.”
“Well, they are bright lads, if I do say it myself,” answered the father, proudly. “And let me say, too, that I think Dora is a very dear girl. I shall be proud to take her for a daughter.”
“No prouder than I shall be to take Dick for a son, Mr. Rover.”
“I am glad to hear you say that—glad that the idea is agreeable all around,” returned Anderson Rover.