"What must I consider?"
"The shop—the trade."
"When you were a very young butcher, and first took to it, did you like it?"
"I wasn't squeamish," he said; and then he told her about his father. After that he philosophised a little, telling something of the best that he conceived might be if men sought the highest ideal in lowly walks of life, instead of seeking to perform imperfectly some nobler business. It was wonderful how much better he could speak to her than to his brother, but Sophia listened with such perfect assent that his sense of honour again smote him.
"Art thinking of it all, love?" he said.
"I was wondering what colour of aprons you wore, and if I must make them."
They began to walk home, passing now under the sumac's palm-like canopy, and they saw the blue gleam of the singing river through red thickets. Soon they came to a bit of open ground, all overgrown with bronzed bracken, and maidenhair sere and pink, and blue-eyed asters and golden-rod. So high and thick were the breeze-blown weeds that the only place to set the feet was a very narrow path. Here Sophia walked first, for they could not walk abreast, and as Alec watched her threading her way with light elastic step, he became afraid once more, and tried to break through her happy tranquillity.
"Dear love," he said, "I hope—"
"What now?" said she, for his tone was unrestful.
He trampled down flowers and ferns as he awkwardly tried to gain her side.