"Your terror's most alarming," she said comfortably. "Will you tell me of it?"
"Sure." Murray picked up the letter again and stared at it. "Have you got any feller fixed in your mind you're yearning for your daughter Jessie to marry?"
The question was abrupt, startling. And somehow to Ailsa Mowbray it was as though a fierce winter blast had suddenly descended upon her heart.
"I—don't think I'd thought about it—seriously," the mother replied after a pause.
Murray swung about and faced her. His eyes were serious. There could be no mistaking his earnestness.
"I can't figger how you're going to take what I've got to say, ma'am. I said the 'thanks' might be all due from me, before we're through. I don't know. Anyway, I guess I need to get busy right away in the way it seems to me best."
"You want to marry—Jessie?"
The mother's question came without any enthusiasm. There was even coldness in it.
"More than anything in the world, ma'am."
The sincerity of the man was in every line of his face. It shone in the burning depths of his eyes. It rang in the vibrant tones of his voice.