Marley looked a question at him, and the smile which Lawrence never could repress long at a time was twitching at the corners of his large mouth. "She'll be there." "How do you know?" asked Marley. Lawrence smiled a little more significantly. When they got to the Carters' they found Mayme and Lavinia together in the yard, strolling about in apparent aimlessness, yet with an expectancy in their manner that belied its quality of mere idleness. In the look Lavinia gave him all of Marley's perplexities vanished. Lawrence stood by with a grin on his red face, and Mayme Carter's eyes danced. She and Lawrence assumed almost immediately an elder, paternal manner, and looked on at the lovers' meeting as from far heights that were to be reached only after all such youthful experiences had long since become possible in retrospect alone. Still smiling, they edged away, and left the lovers alone. "Is it really true?" Marley asked. Lavinia colored a little as she smiled up at him. "And you are happy?" he asked. "So happy!" she said. And then all at once a cloud came over her eyes. She closed them an instant. "What is it?" he asked in alarm. "Nothing." "Tell me." "It's nothing." She was smiling again, as if to show that her happiness was complete. "See?" Her eyes were blinking rapidly. "I'm glad," he said. As they turned and walked across the yard Marley looked at her nervously. "Do you know," he said, "that I couldn't remember what color your eyes were?" He spoke with all the virtue there is in confession. "What color are they?" she asked, suddenly closing her eyes. "They're blue," Marley replied, saying the word ecstatically, as if it had a new, wonderful meaning for him. "Connie says they're green." "Connie?" "Yes, don't you know? She's my younger sister." "Oh." He did not know any of her family, and the baffling sense of unreality came over him again. "You'll know her," said Lavinia, and added thoughtfully: "I hope she'll like you. Then there's Chad, my little brother." Marley was growing alarmed at the intricacies of an introduction into a large family, the characters of which were as yet like the characters in the first few chapters of a novel, but he thought it would not reflect on him to admit that he did not know Chad, seeing that he was merely a little brother. "He admires you immensely," said Lavinia. "Does he?" said Marley, eagerly, instantly loving Chad. "How does he know me?" "He says you were a football player at college." Marley laughed a modest deprecation of his own prowess. "But I knew your voice," said Lavinia. "Did you? When did you hear it?" "As if you didn't know!" "Honestly," he protested. "Tell me." "Why, that night that you serenaded me." He was regretting that she had outdone him in observation, but she suddenly looked up and said: "Oh, Glenn! What a beautiful voice you have!" It was the first time she had ever called him Glenn, and it produced in him a wonderful sensation.