“I know it,” said Jim, with a pleased air. “I thought I was right, mother.”
“Entirely right; and you, too, really ought to finish school, and take up a profession or a business, before you say anything definite. You would want a nice home for the dear little thing, you know that, Jim.”
Jim stared at his mother out of his white pillow. “I thought I would stay with you, and she would stay with her father until we were both very much older,” said he. “She has a nice home now, you know, mother.”
Sally Patterson's mouth twitched a little, but she spoke quite gravely and reasonably. “Yes, that is very true,” said she; “still, I do think you are wise to wait, Jim.”
When Sally Patterson had left Jim, she looked in on the rector in his study. “Our son is thinking seriously of marrying, Edward,” said she.
The rector stared at her. She had shut the door, and she laughed.
“He is very discreet. He has consulted me as to my approval of her as daughter and announced his intention to wait a little while.”
The rector laughed; then he wrinkled his forehead uneasily. “I don't like the little chap getting such ideas,” said he.
“Don't worry, Edward; he hasn't got them,” said Sally Patterson.
“I hope not.”