“None of your damned business!”
“I was hoping you were,” the minister said quietly. “She needs a friend—one who will stand close, just now.”
“Do you mean—?”
“I am going to marry Fanny.”
“The devil you are!”
The minister smiled and held out his hand.
“We may as well be friends, Jim,” he said coolly, “seeing we’re to be brothers.”
The young man turned on his heel.
“I’ll have to think that proposition over,” he growled. “It’s a bit too sudden—for me.”
Without another glance in the direction of the minister he marched toward the house. Fanny was laying the table, a radiant color in her face. A single glance told her brother that she was happy. He threw himself into a chair by the window.