“Oh, of course,” Mrs. Craig said. “I’m on my way upstairs. I’ll bring you some hot chocolate later, if you like.”
They both smiled and nodded as she went upstairs.
“Come in, Ted,” Mr. Craig said, opening the door to his study. They sat down in comfortable chairs and pulled out their pipes.
Mr. Craig smiled disarmingly at the boy. “You might call this a trial run for me, son,” he said.
“I don’t understand, sir,” Ted replied, lighting his pipe.
Mr. Craig leaned back and stared out of the window. “I guess you know that our daughter will be getting married pretty soon. When young MacRae comes back from Europe, probably. I guess he’ll want a few words with me beforehand. So I thought I’d ... well, I’d practice on you.”
Ted nodded. “You don’t know what this means to me, Mr. Craig,” he said warmly. “You and Mrs. Craig have been like a second father and mother to Ethel, and this gesture just about completes the picture.”
Mr. Craig nodded. “Fine girl,” he mused. “I can’t remember knowing any finer girl, as a matter of fact. Well, I guess all young people have to listen to some old man recount the blessings and pitfalls of marriage sooner or later. Your mother is still living, isn’t she, Ted?”
“Yes, sir. She will be here next month for the wedding. She and Ethel have been corresponding for several months, now. Needless to say, Mother is thrilled.”
The older man nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, Ted, I’m in no position to ask you impertinent questions about your bank account or your ideas about marriage or anything else. But I just want to give you a little advice. Advice which I think you can use. In some ways, you and I are very much alike. Before I went into the Army, I was pretty absorbed in my work. Perhaps I knew as much as the average husband and father about what was going on in my family. But it took a war and a serious illness to prove to me that no work in the world is one quarter as important as a man’s wife and children.