“It isn’t as much as he expects a man to give his daughter, though,––not by a long shot.”
“It’s enough,” she insisted. “Why, even without the house it would be enough.”
“Yes,” he answered, with a smile. “When you say it––it’s enough. I wish Stuyvesant knew you.”
The blood came into her cheeks. She wished he wouldn’t say things like that.
“It seems to me you ought to see him and tell him,” she said thoughtfully.
He shook his head.
“What’s the use of seeing him until I’ve seen Frances?”
“It’s all settled about her.”
“That she’ll marry me in September?”
“Of course,” she answered excitedly. “Why, she’s been waiting a whole year. Do you think she’ll want to wait any longer? As soon as she knows how well you’ve done, why––why, that’s the end of it. Of course that’s the end of it.”