"I made him though—I did," Roy exulted shamelessly, marvelling at his father's cleverness, wondering how much he had told. "I hammered hard. And I'm not sorry a bit. Nor Daddy isn't either."
For answer she gave him a convulsive little squeeze—and felt the crackle of paper under his shirt. "Something hidden there! What is it, Sonling?" she asked with laughing eyes: and suddenly shyness overwhelmed him. For the moment he had forgotten his treasure; and now he was wondering if he could show it—even to her.
"It is Tara—I think it's rather a secret——" he began.
"But I may see?" Then as he still hesitated, she added with grave tenderness: "Only if you are wishing it, son of my heart. To-day—you are a man."
From his father that recognition had been sufficiently uplifting. And now—from her...! The subtle flattery of it and the deeper prompting of his own heart demolished his budding attempt at reserve.
"I am—truly," he said: and she, sitting where his father had sat, unfolded Tara's letter—and the bangle lay revealed.
Roy had not guessed how surprised she would be—and how pleased! She gave a little quick gasp and murmured something he could not catch. Then she looked at him with shining eyes, and her voice had its low serious note that stirred him like music.
"Now—you are Bracelet-Bound, my son. So young!"
Roy felt a throb of pride. It was clearly a fine thing to be.
"Must I give a 'broidered bodice'?"