"Dinner's ready," she said eagerly. "I thought I'd just see if you were coming. I didn't expect you. Have you time for it, Dave?"
"Sure, ma," he responded, stooping and kissing her upturned face. "The logs are down."
"Dear boy, I'm glad."
It was all she said, but her tone, and the look she gave him, said far more than the mere words.
Dave placed one great arm gently about her narrow shoulders and led her into the house.
"I'm going to take an hour for dinner to-day sure," he said, with unusual gaiety. "Just to celebrate. After this," he went on, "for six months I'm going to do work that'll astonish even you, ma."
"But you won't overdo it, Dave, will you? The money isn't worth it. It isn't really. I've lived a happy life without much of it, boy, and I don't want much now. I only want my boy."
There was a world of gentle solicitude in the old woman's tones. So much that Dave smiled upon her as he took his place at the table.
"You'll have both, ma, just as sure as sure. I'm not only working for the sake of the money. Sounds funny to say that when I'm working to make myself a millionaire. But it's not the money. It's success first. I don't like being beaten, and that's a fact. We Americans hate being beaten. Then there's other things. Think of these people here. They'll do well. Malkern'll be a city to be reckoned with, and a prosperous one. Then the money's useful to do something with. We can help others. You know, ma, how we've talked it all out."
The mother helped her son to food.