Wilma laughed a little and, without exactly realizing it, settled more heavily on Gust’s arm. They were out of downtown now, and the houses were rising away from the sidewalk, up the hill. “I hardly think so, Gust.”

He rested his hand atop hers; her heart gave a little lurch. “Wilma,” he said, “don’t you ever feel you’re too young to have the whole of your life set out before you?”

Wilma hesitated. “Sometimes, I suppose.”

“Godsakes, Wilma, I’m only twenty-two, and you’re twenty-one, and chances are, twenty years from now, I’ll still be working at the mill, and you’ll still be living in that house and married to my brother. Only that baby will be almost as old as we are now, and maybe he’ll have his whole life set out for him, too, then. He’ll have the office next door to John’s. Especially if he’s called Junior!”

Wilma said nothing.

“Can I tell you a secret, Wilma?”

“A secret?”

“I’m restless, Wilma. I went to a dance over in Victor last weekend, and do you know I couldn’t find a girl pretty enough to suit me, even to dance with?”

Something in her burned. “Of course you need a girl.”

“I think I should leave this town, Wilma, and go far away from here. California. Alaska, even.”

“Oh, Gust, no, you couldn’t!” Then she realized what she had said. Her shoes clicked along the walk; do not do not do not, she repeated to herself, all the way to the bottom of the steps that led up to the Mickelson house.

They stopped there. He took her hands in his. “Stay and be uncle to your children?” he said. “And the second son?”

“Every child needs an uncle, don’t they?”

He did not smile; his eyes were sharp and bright.

“Besides,” she went on quickly, “it’s only a matter of time before they let you have your way with the mill. John is so interested in the bank, and your father’s so busy with his real estate. I overheard them talking, and your father said he thought you ought to be given full authority at the mill.”

“And what did John say, then?”

Wilma looked down at their hands entwined together. “He said you were too young, and too reckless.”

“I had no doubt.”

“But your father will convince him, I’m sure of it.”

“And what about the rest?” he said. “What do I do about not being able to find a girl pretty enough to dance with because I compare them all to you?”

She drew in her breath.

He let go of her hands, and stepped back. “Forgive me—God-sakes.” He took off his hat and ran a hand through his curls.