"It will be a fine night, though the snow's rather deep," he said. "Now what about the provisions I ordered?"
They discussed the matter for a while, and then Andrew went out to look for Graham. He found him alone in the mill office, and the elder man listened eagerly to what he had to say. Then Graham jumped up and strode excitedly up and down the room.
"After all the years of waiting, I can hardly realize that I'm to have my chance!" he exclaimed. "I feel dazed; the thing's—overwhelming!"
"There's no doubt about it," said Andrew. "I've arranged matters satisfactorily with your president. You have only to say that you will come."
"Come!" Graham's eyes glowed; but he paused in sudden hesitation. "Still, I don't know how my wife will face it. She must be told at once. Come with me and explain—I think you will do it better than I can."
He threw a book into the desk, shut the desk noisily, and took out his watch.
"Mr. Allinson," he said, "I believe this office has never been closed five minutes before the proper time since I first entered it, but the habits of twenty years have lost their grip to-night. I feel like a man unexpectedly let out of prison."
Andrew went out with him and nothing was said until they reached his house. The table was neatly laid for supper, and Mrs. Graham was cheerfully bustling about it. She stopped and looked at her husband with a start when he came in. The man was trying hard to maintain his usual calm, but his expression was strained and eager, and his manner deprecatory, as if he were half ashamed. Andrew thought Mrs. Graham knew.
"Can you spare me a few minutes?" Andrew asked. "I have something to say."
She sat down with forced quietness, though her color faded.