“Look here, young man,” she said. “What did Sally say?”
“She said she’d let me know this morning,” he answered.
“And you’ve been blamin’ my old rooster for gettin’ you up?”
“Not blaming him exactly,” he apologized.
“And you aren’t sure whether she’s goin’ to say yes or goin’ to say no?”
Don’s lips tightened.
“I’m not sure whether she’s going to say yes or no this morning. But, believe me, Mrs. Halliday, before she dies she’s going to say yes.”
Mrs. Halliday nodded approvingly. She went further; she placed a thin hand on Don’s shoulder. It was like a benediction. His heart warmed as though it had been his mother’s hand there.
“Don,” she said, as naturally as though she had been saying it all her life, “I don’t know much about you in one way. But I like your face and I like your eyes. I go a lot by a man’s eyes. More’n that, I know Sally, and there 300 was never a finer, honester girl made than she is. If she has let you go as far as this, I don’t think I’d worry myself to death.”
“That’s the trouble,” he answered. “She didn’t let me go as far as this. I––I just went.”