“We don't know you yet,” said David. “You understand that, of course—it is all so unexpected. I'll say frankly, my boy, that I like you; and that Alice likes you and has chosen you means much. You have not asked me for her out and out, but that is what you meant, of course. Will you let me reserve my word temporarily?”
“Well, that's right,” said Lanny. “You ought to look me up and find out something about me before you give me anything as precious as Alice. If she was mine I wouldn't give her to anyone, no matter how good he was. I'll tell you, Mr. Dean, I don't pretend to be good enough for her; I don't expect you to find that I am; but I hope you don't find that I'm too bad for her.”
“And might it not be as well,” said David, “that the engagement be not widely heralded at present!”
Lanny's face fell.
“I've told mother,” he said. “There is no telling who she has told by now.”
“I cannot object to your having told your mother,” said David. “But let us tell no others for the present. Unless you wish to tell your father,” he added. Then: “Good-by, Mr. Welsh. You understand you will be welcome here any time.”
David hastened the departure because he saw Lucille Hardcome's low-hung carriage at his gate, and Lucille descending from it in state. Outside the door Lanny met Alice and to her query he said:
“He was fine, Alice! He's a fine man. All he wants is time to look me up a little.”
“The idea!” exclaimed Alice. “And when I have looked you up already,” but it was said joyfully and she tempered it with a kiss, quite clearly seen by Lucille Hardcome through the colorless glass of the upper panel of the front door.