"No, I can't; and for another thing you need a rest. You never go away except on business; the fact is, you never get business out of your mind. Now, let me gather up these things for you." She reached for the array of balance sheets on his table, and he threw his arms over them protectingly.
"Please go away! I've spent all evening straightening these things out." She retreated to her chair, and he began rolling up his papers.
"You'd better go with the Whipples, and Mrs. Whipple will help you do your shopping. It doesn't seem to me that you have many clothes. You'd better get some more."
"You can't buy me off that way, father. Either you go or I don't." He turned toward her again when he had rolled his papers into a packet and fixed a rubber band around them. She knew, as she usually did after such approaches, that he wanted to say something in particular.
"You mustn't settle down too soon. You can't always be young, and you can easily get into a rut here."
"Yes, but I haven't had time yet; I've hardly got settled. I want to get acquainted at home before I go away. I'm afraid they still look on me as a pilgrim and a stranger here."
"But they're all nice to you, ain't they?" he demanded sharply.
"They are certainly as kind as can be," she answered. "I haven't a single complaint. I'm having just the time I wanted to have when I came home."
"I don't want to lose you too soon, girl." It was half a question. She wondered whether this could be what he had been leading up to.
"And I don't want you to lose me at all! I didn't come home after all these years to have you lose me."