Page:The Star in the Window.pdf/302

292 "Robert would make a sermon out of that, I suppose," sighed Mrs. Barton. "Robert says you're always giving him ideas for sermons. And Professor Heckelman says that you're always giving that genius brother of his, ideas for poems. He says that some of these daily exercise themes he has you write are little gems of unrhymed poetry themselves—full of wind and sails, and the foamy salt sea sometimes, and sometimes full of woods and damp moss, and animals, and things. I just wonder what you're going to be one of these days, Nathan," she exclaimed brightly.

"Well," Nathan replied with a slow smile, "it doesn't look as if I were going to be very much of a money-king, anyhow, with hardly enough income from the 'Ellen T.' to clothe myself on, and pay Professor Heckelman with."

"The young lady at home won't care, Nathan, whether you're a money-king or not, from the looks of the expensive dress she was able to buy to be married in," boldly Mrs. Barton flung out.

What if it did make him flush. ("It's just silly the way he won't ever talk about her or let anybody else," she had told the kitten earlier in the evening.)

Nathan shifted his legs uneasily at Mrs. Barton's reference, and remained silent.

"Oh, Nathan, Nathan!" she burst out at him stormily, after a minute. "Why won't you ever talk about her to me? Why won't you ever tell me who and what she is, and how you met, and where? I declare you act as if you were ashamed of her sometimes, and she so sweet and pretty, too!"

"You know it couldn't be ashamed of her I am, Mrs. Barton," he murmured miserably.