“It’s been a day of great excitement. Mary, my dear, we have reason to be proud and grateful. The boy has turned into a fine young fellow. I wish you could have seen his face when I told him about the shootin’. He stared at me as if the heavens had fallen. And his concern, of course, was entirely on my account. Very gratifying—very. Another thing. No entanglements. I hinted at marriage, a nice little girl with a bit o’ money. He laughed and replied: ‘Why not?’ Of course, there must be no pressure, not a pennyweight. But I warn you, he has ideas. He marches—a—with the times.”
“Do you mean away from—us?”
“That remains to be seen. He is keen about his profession.”
“You regret that?”
“Yes, and no. Our grandchildren, Mary, will wean him from pipeclay.”
As he spoke, he kissed her tranquil face and whispered a compliment.
“You looked so young and pretty to-night. I hardly see you as a grandmother.”
She touched his arm softly.
“We won’t count those blessed chicks till they’re hatched.”
Something in her tone arrested the Squire’s attention. He said sharply: