Jim Shirley’s handsome face grew sorrowful.
“He was not affected by the boom. He has been the same man in spirit and fortune for twenty-five years. But we are going to lose him. That’s why he’s not here tonight,” Jim hurried on as the others were about to interrupt him. “He won’t say good-by to anybody. You can understand why. He’s going to start for China tomorrow morning—missionary! It’s the last of Pryor Gaines for us. I promised not to tell till he was gone. I’ve lied to him. That’s all. But you’ll not tell on me nor let him know. He says he’s ’called.’ And when a preacher gets that in his blood there’s no stopping him.”
At that moment Virginia Aydelot and a group of matrons came thronging out.
“Come in for the Virginia Reel,” they demanded. “The young folks are having refreshments on the side porch and Bo Peep wants us to dance for him.”
“May I have the honor?” Horace Carey said, bowing to Virginia Aydelot.
“With pleasure, Horace,” Virginia replied with a smile.
As they led the way to the dining room, Dr. Carey said:
“I congratulate you tonight, Virginia, on your son, your kingly husband, and your busy, useful life. You’ve won the West, you two.”
“Not yet,” Virginia replied. “Not until our son proves himself. He’s a farmer’s boy now. Wait five years till he is the age his father was when he came out here. The test of victory is the second generation.”
Bo Peep’s fiddle began its song and the still young middle-aged guests with their host and hostess kept time to its rhythm.