Even then Sally Patterson did not laugh or even smile. “Are you thinking of marrying her, Jim?” asked she, quite as if her son had been a man.
“Yes, mother,” replied Jim. Then he flung up his little arms in pink pajama sleeves, and Sally Patterson took his face between her two hands and kissed him warmly.
“She is a darling, and your choice does you credit, Jim,” said she. “Of course you have said nothing to her yet?”
“I really think you are very wise, Jim,” said his mother. “It is too soon to put such ideas into the poor child's head. She is younger than you, isn't she, Jim?”
“She is just six months and three days younger,” replied Jim, with majesty.
“I thought so. Well, you know, Jim, it would just wear her all out, as young as that, to be obliged to think about her trousseau and housekeeping and going to school, too.”
“I know it,” said Jim, with a pleased air. “I thought I was right, mother.”
“Entirely right; and you, too, really ought to finish school, and take up a profession or a business, before you say anything definite. You would want a nice home for the dear little thing, you know that, Jim.”
Jim stared at his mother out of his white pillow. “I thought I would stay with you, and she would stay with her father until we were both very much older,” said he. “She has a nice home now, you know, mother.”
Sally Patterson's mouth twitched a little, but she spoke quite gravely and reasonably. “Yes, that is very true,” said she; “still, I do think you are wise to wait, Jim.”
When Sally Patterson had left Jim, she looked in on the rector in his study. “Our son is thinking seriously of marrying, Edward,” said she.
The rector stared at her. She had shut the door, and she laughed.
“He is very discreet. He has consulted me as to my approval of her as daughter and announced his intention to wait a little while.”
The rector laughed; then he wrinkled his forehead uneasily. “I don't like the little chap getting such ideas,” said he.
“Don't worry, Edward; he hasn't got them,” said Sally Patterson.
“He has made a very wise choice. She is that perfect darling of a Rose girl who couldn't speak her piece, and thought we all loved her when we laughed.”
“Well, don't let him get foolish ideas; that is all, my dear,” said the rector.