The
eyes of the younger one seldom were raised to his, but she saw his
every expression. Once Emma McChesney's eyes shifted a little so
as to include both the girl and the boy in her gaze. Grace Galt in
her blue serge and smart blue hat was worth a separate glance.
Sam Hupp was there, T.A. Buck, Hopper, who was to be with him in
Chicago for the first few weeks, three or four of the younger men
in the office, frankly envious and heartily congratulatory.
They followed him to his train, all laughter and animation.
"If this train doesn't go in two minutes," said Jock, "I'll get
scared and chuck the whole business. Funny, but I'm not so keen on
going as I was three weeks ago."
His eyes rested on the girl in the blue serge and the smart hat.
Emma McChesney saw that. She saw that his eyes still rested there
as he stood on the observation platform when the train pulled out.
The sight did not pain her as she thought it would. There was
success in every line of him as he stood there, hat in hand. There
was assurance in every breath of him. His clothes, his skin, his
clear eyes, his slim body, all were as they should be. He had
made a place in the world. He was to be a builder of ideas. She
thought of him, and of the girl in blue serge, and of their
children-to-be.
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