"The sooner the better. I'd rather get settled there before the autumn. I'm going to be married sometime in the autumn—October, perhaps."
"Ah!" said Cyrus softly, and Oliver was grateful to him because he didn't attempt to crow.
"We haven't told any one yet—but I wanted to make sure of the job. It's all right, then, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes, it's all right, if you do your part. She's Gabriel Pendleton's girl, isn't she?"
"She's Virginia Pendleton. You know her, of course." He tried honestly to be natural, but in spite of himself he could not keep a note of constraint out of his voice. Merely to discuss Virginia with Cyrus seemed, in some subtle way, an affront to her. Yet he knew that the old man wanted to be kind, and the knowledge touched him.
"Oh, yes, I know her. She's a good girl, and there doesn't live a better man than Gabriel."
"I don't deserve her, of course. But, then, there never lived a man who deserved an angel."
"Ain't you coming in?" asked Cyrus.
"Not this evening. I only wanted to speak to you. I suppose I'd better go down to the office to-morrow and talk to Mr. Burden, hadn't I?"
"Come about noon, and I'll tell him to expect you. Well, if you ain't coming in, I reckon I'll close this door."