"Didn't I say I'd
surprise you?"
"Don't mind me. This is about the happiest and most bewildered moment--of
my life," replied Carley.
Returning to the table, Glenn dug at something in a large red can. He
paused a moment to eye Carley.
"Girl, do you know how to make biscuits?" he queried.
"I might have known in my school days, but I've forgotten," she replied.
"Can you make apple pie?" he demanded, imperiously.
"No," rejoined Carley.
"How do you expect to please your husband?"
"Why--by marrying him, I suppose," answered Carley, as if weighing a
problem.
"That has been the universal feminine point of view for a good many years,"
replied Glenn, flourishing a flour-whitened hand. "But it never served the
women of the Revolution or the pioneers. And they were the builders of the
nation. It will never serve the wives of the future, if we are to survive."
"Glenn, you rave!" ejaculated Carley, not knowing whether to laugh or be
grave. "You were talking of humble housewifely things."
"Precisely. The humble things that were the foundation of the great nation
of Americans. I meant work and children."
Carley could only stare at him. The look he flashed at her, the sudden
intensity and passion of his ringing words, were as if he gave her a
glimpse into the very depths of him.
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