It was a favorite place of theirs to sit outside the low doorway of the sod-built barn. An old log served the girl as a resting place, and the huge youth spread himself on the ground beside her, propping his elbow on the same log, so that his tawny head was nearly on a level with her rounded shoulder.
"Phyl," he cried, as soon as they were settled, "mother's a—a trump. It's all fixed. I've given old Sam Bernard notice I'm quitting. The old boy's hard hit—in a way. I believe he likes me some. I told him I'd come along back and help him harvest. And I'm going to help you harvest, too. But that's afterwards. First I'm going to see mother and get the money, then I'm going to buy the farm. Then I'm going to see certain things put in readiness for fall work. Then I'm coming along back here, and we're going right in to Calford to buy up fixings for our new home. Then, after harvest, we're—going to get married. How?"
Phyllis smiled down into the eager, upturned face, with that wise motherly little smile which was so much a part of her attitude toward those belonging to her, those she loved.
"How? Why, then you're going to come right down to earth and say it all over again," she said, with gentle eagerness. "Say it all again, Frank, and say it slowly. I—I don't want to miss any of it. It's all—all too good to miss. Oh, I'm so happy I want to laugh and cry at the same time. I—I want to take the whole world in my arms and hug it."
"Won't I do?" suggested the young giant, sitting up promptly.
The girl nodded demurely.
"Perhaps, as—a substitute."
She bent over him, and placing her arms about his great neck kissed him very tenderly.
She sighed as she released him.
"Now let's be sensible," she said soberly. "Now tell it me all again."