"Have you talked with anyone—about this?" asked the man.
"Just with my brother," said the boy.
"And what did he say?" asked the man.
"It's the brother who runs the farm with me," explained the boy. "He's a cripple and rather a bit nervous now and then, but he reads an awful lot of books. Not just farm books I mean—not just scientific books, but all sorts of——"
"By which you are intending to imply," interrupted the man, "that your brother's opinion, even though nervous, may be considered fairly sophisticated?"
"Oh, yes," said the boy. "And we went into it all very thoroughly. All the scandal and notoriety of the expulsion, I mean, and the fright and the mortification, and the silly sap-headed mothers 20 who won't let their daughters chum with your daughter any more, and the old cats who all their lives long will be pussy footing after her with whispers and insinuations. It's the bill, of course, that I can't ever pay. That's the beastliness of it! But what I've got, of course, I must give towards it! This isn't just my opinion, you understand?" he questioned a bit sharply. "But it's my brother's, too! And it isn't just my brother's either! It's mine!"
"And that opinion is——?" prompted the man.
"I should like to ask your daughter to marry me!" said the boy.
"I admit that that opinion is—classical," drawled the man. "Shall—shall we consult the lady?"
"Yes," said the boy.