"My dear!" from the colonel.
"Why, he's our father," said Lydia, in a burst. "He's just as much our father as he is yours."
"Good!" said Jeffrey. His voice had warmed perceptibly. "Good for you. That's what I thought."
"If you'd rather not settle down here," said his father, in a tone of hoping Jeff would like it very much, "we shall be glad to let the house again and go anywhere you say. We've often talked of it, the girls and I."
Jeffrey did not thank them for that, or seem to hear it even.
"I want," said he, "to go West."
"Well," said Farvie, with a determined cheerfulness, "I guess the girls'll agree to that. Middle West?"
"No," said Jeffrey, "the West—if there is any West left. Somewhere where there's space." His voice fell, on that last word. It held wonder even. Was there such a thing, this man of four walls seemed to ask, as space?
"You'd want to go alone," said Anne softly. She felt as if she were breaking something to Farvie and adjuring him to bear it.
"Yes," said Jeffrey, in relief. "I've got to go alone."