"I want to ask, sir, how much rent your conscience will allow you to demand for this pigeon-box of a house?"
"Well, I had an idea of asking two hundred dollars for it. Cheap enough at that. You may have it for two hundred," said he, with a good-humored nod toward Beulah.
"Very well, I will take it at that, provided Mrs. Williams likes it as well as I do. In a day or two I will determine."
"In the name of common sense, Beulah, what freak is this?" said the doctor, looking at her with astonishment.
"I am going to live with the matron of the asylum, whom you know very well. I think this house will suit us exactly, and the rent suits my purse far better than a larger building would. I am tired of boarding. I want a little home of my own, where, when the labors of school are over, I can feel at ease. The walk twice a day will benefit me, I feel assured. You need not look so dismal and perplexed; I will make a capital tenant. Your door-facings shan't be pencil-marked; your windows shan't be broken, nor your gate swung off its hinges. As for those flowers you are so anxious to plant, and that patch of ground you are so much interested in, it shall blossom like the plain of Sharon."
He looked at her wistfully; took off his spectacles, wiped them with the end of his coat, and said dubiously:
"What does Hartwell think of this project?"
"I have not consulted him."
"The plain English of which is that, whether he approves or condemns, you are determined to carry out this new plan? Take care, Beulah; remember the old adage about 'cutting off your nose to spite your face.'"
"Rather malapropos. Dr. Asbury," said she indifferently.