On the way home David asked Mary to marry him. She did not pretend unwillingness. She was surprised to be asked just then, but she was happy and she tucked her arm under his affectionately and David clasped her hand. He was happy, quite happy. They stopped to send Dr. Benedict to the Fraggs and then David drove Mary home. She held his hand a moment or two as she stood beside the buggy at her gate.
“You'll come up this evening, David, won't you?” she asked. “Wait, David, I'll have our man drive you home and take this rig back wherever it came from,” she added with a pleasing air of new proprietorship; “you must go straight home and change into something dry. And be sure to come up this evening.”
“I will,” said David, and she turned away. She turned back again immediately.
“David,” she said hesitatingly; “about 'Thusia—I feel so sorry for her. She has no mother and I think lately she has been trying to be good. I feel as if—”
“Yes,” said David, “I feel that too.”
“Well, then, it will be all right!” said Mary happily. “And remember, change your clothes as soon as you get home, David Dean!”
When David opened the door of the manse he stood for a minute letting his happiness have its own way with him. He imagined the little house as it would be with Mary in it as the mistress and, in addition to the glow of heart natural to an accepted lover, he felt he had chosen wisely. His wife would be a help and a refuge; she would be peace and sympathy at the end of every weary day.
Then he climbed the stairs to change his wet garments as Mary had wisely ordered.