“Oh, yes, plenty—­but all so small.”

“Good fellow to live with.”

“Very.”

“And your work?

“It’s going splendidly.  I’ll tell you about it this evening, after you give me the news from the farm.”

They chatted on for a short while, but he saw she was barely listening.

“Can’t you guess what it means,” she asked him softly, “to a woman of my age—­after she has been so afraid she was too old, that she’d married too late—­to know at last—­to be sure at last—­that she’s to have a baby, dad?” He drew back a little, and a lump rose in his throat.

“By George!” he huskily exclaimed.  “Oh, my dear, my dear!” And he held her close in his arms for some time, till both of them grew sensible.

Soon after she had gone to her room, he heard Allan coming upstairs.  He heard her low sweet cry of welcome, a silence, then their voices.  He heard them laughing together and later Deborah humming a song.  And still thinking of what she had told him, he felt himself so close to it all.  And again the feeling came to him that surely he would live here for years.

Allan came in and they had a talk.

“Deborah says she has told you the news.”

“Yes.  Everything’s all right, I suppose—­her condition, I mean,” said Roger.

“Couldn’t be better.”

“Just as I thought.”

“Those six weeks we had up in Maine—­”

“Yes, you both show it.  Working hard?”

“Yes—­”

“And Deborah?” Roger asked.

“You’ll have to help me hold her in.”

They talked a few moments longer and went down to the living room.  John was there with Deborah.  All four went in to dinner.  And through the conversation, from time to time Roger noticed the looks that went back and forth between husband and wife; and again he caught Deborah smiling as though oblivious of them all.  After dinner she went with him into his den.

“Well!  Do you like the house?” she inquired.

“Better than ever,” he replied.

“I wonder if you’ll mind it.  There’ll be people coming to dinner, you know—­”

“That won’t bother me any,” he said.

“And committee meetings now and then.  But you’re safe in here, it’s a good thick door.”

“Let ’em talk,” he retorted, “as hard as they please.  You’re married now—­they can’t scare me a bit.  Only at ten o’clock, by George, you’ve got to knock off and go to bed.”

“Oh, I’ll take care of myself,” she said.

“If you don’t, Allan will.  We’ve had a talk.”

“Scheming already.”

“Yes.  When will it be?”

“In April, I think.”

“You’ll quit work in your schools?”

“A month before.”

“And in the meantime, not too hard.”

“No, and not too easy.  I’m so sure now that I can do both.”  And Deborah kissed him gently.  “I’m so happy, dearie—­and oh, so very glad you’re here!”