For answer, Emmeline Black sobbed.
'Don’t, mother, don’t. You mustn’t mind. Just think how near home I’ll be! Isn’t that something to be glad about?'
Her mother nodded her head as she wiped her eyes on her gingham apron.
'I wondered if you saw it coming?' the girlish voice went on. 'You never let on, and the kids never teased me any. So I thought perhaps you told 'em not to. I haven’t felt like being teased about Jim, some way. It’s been too wonderful, you know.'
Not until that moment did Emmeline Black acknowledge the defeat of her dreams. Wonderful! To love and be loved by Jim Forman, of whom the most that could be said was that he was steady and a hard worker, and that there were only two other children to share his father’s farm!
'Don’t cry, mother,' implored Victoria, 'though I know why you’re doing it. I feel like crying, too, only something won’t let me cry to-night. I guess I’m just too happy ever to cry again.'
Still her mother had not spoken. She had stopped crying and stood twisting her apron with nervous fingers.
'Mother,' said Victoria, suddenly, 'you like Jim, don’t you?'
She said it as if the possibility of any one’s not liking Jim was preposterous. But, nevertheless, there was anxiety in her voice.
Her mother nodded her head.