The dim portraits on the walls smiled down at them. It was the old story to which each passing generation had listened. The ancient house could tell many a like tale.
"Berk," said Linda when they had gone back to the seat by the window, "they told me you had a sweetheart in the city. Bertie Bryan vowed you acknowledged it to her."
He took her hands and kissed them. "So I may have done, my queen, but it was when you were there."
Linda sighed, a happy satisfied sigh. "Berk, dear, were you very unhappy, then? You didn't have to be, you see."
"I thought it was necessary, and perhaps I needed the discipline."
"Just as I have needed the discipline of teaching. I am realizing by degrees what a wonderful life work it might become."
"But you shall not teach long, though, Linda darling, I haven't told you that we shall have to begin life rather simply, for you know I must always think of my mother."
"Berk, dear, I couldn't be happy if I thought you ever would do less than you do now for her."
"You are so wonderful, so wonderful," he murmured. "I hope to do better and better in my profession, for I am much encouraged, and some day, remember I shall buy back Talbot's Angles for you."