"Is that you, Sylvia?"
"Yes, dear."
"Mr. Carter--the President of the Wallacetown Bank, you know--has just
called me up. There's going to be a meeting of the bank officers just
after the fourth, as they've decided to enlarge their board of directors,
and add at least one 'rising young farmer' as he put it--And oh, Sylvia,
he asked if I would allow my name to be proposed! Just think--after all
the years when we couldn't get a _cent_ from them at any rate of
interest, to have that come! It's every bit due to you!"
"It isn't either--it's due to the splendid work you've done this
last year."
"Well, we won't stop to discuss that now. He wants me to drive up and see
him about it right away. Do you mind if I take the motor? I can make so
much better time, and get back to you so much more quickly--but I can't
come to supper--you must forgive me if I go."
"I never should forgive you if you didn't--that's wonderful news! Don't
hurry--I'll be glad to see you whatever time you get back."
She hung up the receiver, and sat motionless beside the instrument, too
thrilled for the moment to move.
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