Anna Chapin Ray

“ Rob nodded.
"I know. Just as grandfather trained you; just as you'll train me, Dad, once I am out of college." For a moment, he was silent, while he bent forward and prodded the fire. Then of a sudden he sat up and looked at his father, his lips unsteady with his eagerness, his blue eyes blazing. "Dad," he said, and, as he spoke, he gripped his courage fast; "I think— You want a fellow, as I understand it, a Canadian fellow who is steady and loyal and willing to work at whatever comes, a fellow that's all-round a man?" ”

“ Argyle laughed.
"When I was your age, Janet, I wore shabbier gloves than you ever dreamed of having," she answered.
"You couldn't. They wouldn't have held together," Janet said flatly. Nevertheless, she put an aged ruin into Mrs. Argyle's outstretched hand. "Mrs. Argyle," she added desperately; "I do hate to be shabby. I am willing to wear plain things; but I do want them whole."
From the other side of the room, Day laughed a little unfeelingly.
"When the worst really comes, Janet, I advise you to economize on your stockings," she suggested. ”

“ Rob and his father were sitting alone before the fire.
Mr. Argyle looked up at his son's words, laughed a little, then grew grave once more.
"No," he said; "it isn't what I should have chosen; but I'm not sure it's not the best thing for Ronald. It may in time lead to something more important. Still—"
"Still?" Rob jogged his father, after it seemed to him the pause had lasted altogether too long.
"Still, I confess I am rather sorry."
"Why?"
"Because I have been keeping an eye on the fellow, myself."
"And somebody else came in ahead on the deal?" Rob inquired irreverently. "Too bad, Dad! ”