"Yes," Roberta replied simply.
"What's he like, Bob?"
"Oh, awfully nice. So good-looking, and he's been so nice to me. I don't think the place would be as nice as it is except that he is so refined, he keeps those factory girls in their place. He's a nephew of the president of the company, you see, and the girls just naturally have to respect him."
"Well, that is nice, isn't it? I think it's so much better to work for refined people than just anybody. I know you didn't think so much of the work over at Trippetts Mills. Does he come to see you often, Bob?"
"Well, yes, pretty often," Roberta replied, flushing slightly, for she realized that she could not be entirely frank with her mother.
Mrs. Alden, looking up at the moment, noticed this, and, mistaking it for embarrassment, asked teasingly: "You like him, don't you?"
"Yes, I do, mother," Roberta replied, simply and honestly.
"What about him? Does he like you?"
Roberta crossed to the kitchen window. Below it at the base of the slope which led to the springhouse, and the one most productive field of the farm, were ranged all the dilapidated buildings which more than anything else about the place bespoke the meager material condition to which the family had fallen. In fact, during the last ten years these things had become symbols of inefficiency and lack. Somehow at this moment, bleak and covered with snow, they identified themselves in her mind as the antithesis of all to which her imagination aspired. And, not strangely either, the last was identified with Clyde. Somberness as opposed to happiness—success in love or failure in love. Assuming that he truly loved her now and would take her away from all this, then possibly the bleakness of it all for her and her mother would be broken. But assuming that he did not, then all the results of her yearning, but possibly mistaken, dreams would be not only upon her own head, but upon those of these others, her mother's first. She troubled what to say, but finally observed: "Well, he says he does."
"Do you think he intends to marry you?" Mrs. Alden asked, timidly and hopefully, because of all her children her heart and hopes rested most with Roberta.