He stepped out in front of her, taking her by the elbows and holding them close down against her sides.
"Why, Hattie, that child's own mother that loved her like an angel couldn't worry no more foolishly about her than you do. Gad! I think you wimmin love it! It was the same kind of worrying shortened her mother's life. Always about nothing, too. 'Lenie,' I used to say to her, just to quiet her, 'it was worry killed a Maltese cat; don't let it kill you.' That child is all right, Hattie. What if he does like her pretty well? Worse could happen."
"No, it couldn't! No!"
"Why not? He 'ain't seen her since a child, and all of a sudden he comes
West and finds in front of him an eye-opener."
"He's twice her age—more!"
"The way girls demand things nowadays, a man has got to be twice her age before he can provide for her. Leon Kessler is big rich."
"He—he's fast."
"Show me the one that 'ain't sowed his wild oats. Them's the kind that settle down quickest into good husbands."
"He—"
"S-ay, it 'ain't happened yet. I'm the last one to wish my girl off my hands. I only say not a boy in this town could give it to her so good. Fifteen years I've done business with that firm, and with his father before him. A-1 house! S-ay, I should worry that he ain't a Sunday-school boy. Show me the one that is. Your old man in his young days wasn't such a low flier, neither, if anybody should ask you." He made a whirring noise in his throat at that, pinching her cold cheek. She was walking rapidly now toward the house. "Well, since our daughter goes out riding in a six-thousand-dollar car, to show that we're sports, lets her father and mother take themselves out for a ride in their six-hundred-dollar car. I drive you out as far as Yiddle's farm for some sweet butter, eh?"