Grandfather looked very tired and pale as he came in and went straight to his chair. His daughter took his hat and cane.
"I did not mean to go so far. I wanted to look at the spot where I had buried my money;" with a little hollow laugh.
"Did you bury some money?" asked Daffodil, with eager curiosity. "Can't you dig it up again?"
"No, dear; it has to stay there for years. It may be dug up in your time, but I shall not need it."
She looked puzzled.
"You must have a cup of tea," said Mrs. Bradin, and immediately she set about it. Grandfather leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Dilly espied her mother in the adjoining room and went thither to exploit the splendid time with the squirrels and show the flowers she had gathered. Then she stood rather wistfully.
"Well?" said her mother in a tone of inquiry.
"Grandfather went to look at the money he had buried, but he couldn't find it. Do you suppose some one has taken it away?"
"Buried?" She seemed mystified a moment, then smiled. "It wasn't as we bury things. A long time ago when the French held the Fort and seemed likely to keep a good part of the country grandfather bought a large tract of land. Then the French were driven out by the English and they in their turn by the Colonists. But the land is there and some day the money may come out of it. Grandad thinks he might as well have thrown it into the river. But he has never wanted for anything, and it would likely have been spent for something else. It's odd grandfather should have said that to-day. He seldom mentions it. He was quite troubled over it at first—when I was a little girl."
"Oh," returned Daffodil, relieved, though she did not understand the matter.