While Delavan was having his interview with her father, Rhoda, clasped in her mother’s arms, was hearing exclamations of delight and forecasts of happiness: “Rhoda, dear! how happy this makes me! Yes, I know, you haven’t given him a final answer—and that’s quite right—keep him off for a while—don’t let him think you’re easily won—but of course you’ll have him finally! Oh, Rhoda, my little girl—to think that you’re going to marry Adeline’s boy! If she knows—up in heaven—she’s just as pleased over it as I am! If she could only have lived to see it! And he’s such a dear fellow! Rhoda, dear, you’ll be so happy, I know you will—and it is such a beautiful life down there!”
She heard her younger daughter whistling in the hall. “There’s Charlotte,” she exclaimed. “I think I’d better send her downtown on some errand.” And wiping tears of joy from her eyes she hurried out to complete her plan of eliminating Charlotte from the life of the household for the rest of the morning.
Rhoda went down to the veranda, taking with her the white silk out of which she was making a bonnet for her mother, with her heart full of tenderest emotion. Mrs. Ware’s delight and enthusiasm had made still warmer and deeper her own thrilling happiness. As her fingers flew over her work she listened to the faint tones of her lover’s voice, and a soft glow stole into her eyes. Delavan surprised it there when presently he came from her father’s office.
“Rhoda!” he exclaimed. She saw the love-light flame across his face and the color mounted to her brow. He sought to take her hand, but she drew it away, saying shyly, “Not yet.”
He went into the house to bid Mrs. Ware good-by, for he was going at once, in order to catch the forenoon trip of the ferry boat across the river. When he came out Rhoda put down her work and walked with him down the broad path between the hedges of lilac to the front gate.
“When can I have my answer?” he pleaded. “The next time I come?”
On the instant there sprang up in her heart a something she had never felt before. It was not the first time she had listened to the pleadings of a would-be lover, but never before had there been one who had not got his answer, frank and straightforward, at once; never one toward whom she had felt this instinctive impulse to enjoy his suspense. Serious-minded offspring of her father though she was, yet it was not for nothing that she was her mother’s daughter. Already she knew what her answer was to be and knew that she could give it to him at any moment. Her short upper lip lifted in a flashing little smile that illumined her whole face. Delavan drew toward her, his eyes upon the soft curves of her mouth.
“How can I tell?” she said. “There is so much to think over—I must have time.”
“Your mother would be very pleased!”
“Yes, dear mother, I know,” she murmured fondly. “She loved your mother so dearly. And father? You talked with him, just now?”