the young man paused, he brought the
conversation back to what, in his mind, was the essential.

"And you're certain sure that you two care enough for each other?" he
asked. "Not just care, but care enough?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, I guess I ain't got much to say. There's one thing, though.
Gertie's young. She ain't finished her schoolin' yet, and--"

"And you think she should. So do I. She wishes to do it, herself, and I
should be the last to prevent her, even if I could. We have agreed that
she shall have the final year at college and then come back to you.
After that--well, after that, the time of our marriage can be settled.
Gertie and I are willing to wait; we expect to. In a few years I shall
have a little more money, I hope, and be more sure of success in life.
I may never be a rich man, but Gertie's tastes and mine are modest. She
does not care for society--"

The captain interrupted. "That's so," he said, hastily, "she don't. She
don't care for 'em at all. Her mother has the greatest work to get her
to go to lodge meetin's. No, she don't care for societies any more'n I
do. Well, John, I--I--it'll come pretty hard to give her up to anybody.
Wait till you have a daughter of your own and you'll know how hard. But,
if I've got to give her up, I'd rather give her to you than anybody
I know. You're a Trumet boy and I've known you all my life, and so's
Gertie, for that matter. All I can say is, God bless you and--and take
good care of my girl, that's all."

He extended his hand and John seized it. Then the captain coughed,
blew his nose with vigor, and, reaching into his pocket, produced two
battered cigars.

"Smoke up, John," he said.

At dinner, a meal at which Mrs. Dott, still busy with the lodge room
decorations, was not present, Gertrude and her father talked it over.

"It comes kind of hard, Gertie," he admitted, "but, Lord love you,
there's a heap of hard things in this world. John's a good fellow
and--and, well, we ain't goin' to lose you just yet, anyhow."

Gertrude rose and, coming around the table, put her arms about his neck.

"Indeed you're not, dear," she said. "If I supposed my marriage meant
giving you up, I shouldn't think of it."

"Want to know! Wouldn't think of John, either, I suppose, hey?"

"Well, I--I might think of him a little, just a tiny little bit."

"I shouldn't wonder. That's all right. You can't get rid of me so easy.
After you two are all settled in your fine new house, I