"It's nothing short of criminal to keep all this old mahogany buried here in the country, and the cut-glass and silver. And to think that the house cannot be sold for two more years! Not until Ruth is of age!
What do you suppose your dear grandfather could have been thinking of?"
This question, eliciting no reply from the tea-pot, remained suspended in the air until it attracted Ruth's wandering attention.
"I beg your pardon, aunt. What grandfather was thinking of? About the place? Why, I guess he hoped that Carter and I would keep it."
Carter looked over his paper. "Keep this old cemetery? Not I! The day it is sold I start for Europe. If one lung is gone and the other going, I intend to enjoy myself while it goes."
"Carter!" begged Ruth, appealingly.
He laughed. "You ought to be glad to get rid of me, Ruth. You've bothered your head about me ever since you were born."
She slipped her hand into his as it lay on the table, and looked at him wistfully.
"The idea of the old governor thinking we'd want to stay here!" he said, with a curl of the lip.
"Perfectly ridiculous!" echoed Mrs. Nelson.