“I have been practising at something besides ship-carpentering, although that isn’t such a bad thing for a fellow with muscle to earn his living by! And I have some chance, perhaps only a slight one, of making a success of it.”
How that telegram burned in my pocket when I saw the wistful eagerness, mingled with doubt, in his eyes!
But I kept it in my pocket and held my peace. Being a sister to a boy is a matter that requires diplomacy!
“And I’m living it down,” continued Dave, not without a touch of pride in his voice. “Cyrus has confidence in me already. Even Uncle Horace has asked my opinion of several matters connected with these business troubles. Promise me, Bathsheba, that you’ll keep quiet and let me live it down.”
“I can’t bear that they shouldn’t know it. Uncle Horace and Cyrus, especially Uncle Horace; he was so perfectly sardonic that Thanksgiving day!”
The wind seemed to be rising; those boards rattled so.
“Wait, for my sake, if not for poor Rob’s,” he insisted. “‘The mills of the gods grind slowly,’” he added lightly.
“‘The mills of God,’” I amended.
“‘Though the mills of God grind slowly
Yet they grind exceeding small,