"They may as well go with the rest. Your father valued them highly in this life, but——"
"They are the most lugubrious, sorrowful objects. They make me shudder. How could any one imagine they were ornamental?"
"Your father thought them to be very curious and instructive, and they cost a great deal of money."
"If during the night you remember any changes you would like to make, we can discuss them in the morning," said Robert.
He went out gaily, and as he closed the door, began to sing:
"My love is like a red, red rose,
That's newly blown in June;
My Love is like a melody,
That's sweetly played in tune."
Then the library shut in the singer and the song, and all was silence.
Mrs. Campbell did not speak, and Isabel looked at her with a kind of contemptuous pity. She thought her mother had but lamely defended her position, and was sure she could have done it more effectively. Christina was simply interested. There was really something going to happen, and as far as she could see, the change in the house would bring other changes still more important. She was satisfied, and she looked at her silent mother and sister impatiently. Why did they not say something?
At length Mrs. Campbell rose from the sofa, and began to walk slowly up and down the room, and with motion came speech.
"I think, Isabel," she said, "I signified my opinions and desires plainly enough to your brother."