He did not care just now that she was slow to make plans. He was enjoying each day, each hour, to the full. He wanted to keep her from thinking about the future, and especially about the winter, till she got home, and so he humored her and led her to other topics.
One night, as they sat on the dark veranda alone, Graham said to George:
"If you were going to college, where would you want to prepare?"
He wondered what the boy would say, for the subject of college had never been mentioned with relation to George. He did not know whether the boy had ever thought of it. But the answer came promptly in a ringing voice:
"Central High! They've got the best football team in the city."
"Then you wouldn't want to go away to some preparatory school?"
"No, sir!" was the decided answer. "I believe in the public school every time! When I was a little kid I can remember my father taking me to walk and pointing out the Central High School, and telling me that some day I would go there to school. I used to always call that 'my school.' I used to think I'd get there yet, some day, but I guess that's out of the question."
"Well, George, if that's your choice you can get ready to enter as soon as you go back to the city."
"What?" George's feet came down from the veranda railing with a thud, and he sat upright in the darkness and stared wildly at his prospective brother-in-law. Then he slowly relaxed and his young face grew grim and stern.
"No chance!" he said laconically.