“Very strange, very!” remarked Espy, with a smile that belied his words. “Ah, Floy,” he added with a sigh, “I only wish I had some assurance that I shall find equal favor with them, or at least with your mother.”
“You need have no fears, Espy,” she said. “My mother and I passed the night together in each other’s arms—she sharing my bed—but not sleeping much, you may be sure. We talked till daybreak, each giving the other an account of her life during the years of our separation. I told her all about you—yes, everything—and she fully approves my choice, is ready to give you a son’s place in her dear, warm heart, only she says we must not ask to marry for a year or more (which you know we did not expect to do anyhow), because she must have me for a little while.”
His face was radiant.
“Bless her!” he cried. “I was afraid she would object to my poverty, particularly as I imagine them to be very wealthy.”
“Mother says they are not that; only comfortably well-to-do. Their home is in that land of fruit and flowers, Santa Barbara, and Aunt Nannette has already promised to go with them on their return and make her home there, and—ah, don’t look so dismal, for though I, of course, cannot consent to be left behind, all want you to go also and settle there.”
“I’ve not the least objection; in fact, am delighted with the idea!” he said with animation. “And so it’s all arranged! Everything has come out right in spite of the doubts and fears with which I’ve been tormenting myself.”
“Ah, there was no need,” she said gayly; “but
“‘Human bodies are sic fools,
For a’ their colleges and schools,
That when nae real ills perplex them