"Yes, to be sure! Bless me, I was better off when I had no property. I could do as I pleased then, and didn't have to go about breaking my neck in pits, and bothering over all sorts of business that I understand no more than the man in the moon—taking care of my interests as they call it."
"Poor, unfortunate victim!" mocked Elsie.
"The penalty of riches," sighed Mrs. Harrington. "But think of the good they bring to yourself and all about you, Mr. Fuller."
"Yes, I know," returned he; "I'm an ungrateful wretch; it's in my nature; I need to have my head punched twenty times a day, there's no doubt of that."
They all laughed at his energy; even Elizabeth tried to come out of her anxious thoughts, and confine her wandering fancies to the conversation.
"When are you going, Tom?" she asked.
"Oh, to-morrow."
"He speaks as if it were the Day of Judgment," said Elsie.
"And I may be gone a whole week or more," pursued he.
"A small eternity," cried Elsie. "Dear me, dear me, how we all pity you."