“I have been busy, of course.”
“And worried?”
“Sometimes. But things are clearing up now.”
She was studying him with the newly opened eyes of love. What was it he showed that the other men she knew lacked? Sensitiveness? Kindness? But her father was both sensitive and kind. So was Pink, in less degree. In the end she answered her own question, and aloud.
“I think it is patience,” she said. And to his unspoken question: “You are very patient, aren't you?”
“I never thought about it. For heaven's sake don't turn my mind in on myself, Lily. I'll be running around in circles like a pup chasing his tail.”
He made a movement to leave, but she seemed oddly reluctant to let him go.
“Do you know that father says you have more influence than any other man in the city?”
“That's more kind than truthful.”
“And—I think he and grandfather are planning to try to get you, when the mills reopen. Father suggested it, but grandfather says you'd have the presidency of the company in six months, and he'd be sharpening your lead pencils.”