"Well?"
Betty rested her face in her hands and propped her elbows on her knees. All her embarrassment had gone now. She was thinking, thinking, and when at last her words came that tone of excitement which she had used just a moment before had quite gone out of her voice.
"It's Jim," she said quietly. "He's asked me to marry him. I've promised—and—and he's gone to speak to uncle."
Dave took out his pipe again and looked into the bowl of it.
"I guessed it was that," he said, after a while. Then he fumbled for his tobacco. "And—are you happy—little Betty?" he asked a moment later.
"Yes—I—I think so."
"You think so?"
Dave was astonished out of himself.
"You only think so?" he went on, his breath coming quickly.
Betty sat quite still and the man watched her, with his pipe and tobacco gripped tightly in his great hand. He was struggling with a mad desire to crush this girl to his heart and defy any one to take her from him. It was a terrible moment. But the wild impulse died down. He took a deep breath and—slowly filled his pipe.