For a few moments their words and laughter were mingled in such confusion that the record would produce a senseless jumble. Finally Elsie sat down, appearing utterly overcome.
"Oh, what a glorious world!" she murmured. "What a grand, inexpressible thing real true friendship is! Still, such a gift is——"
"Now don't feel that this is a case of charity," laughed Inza. "I want you here—we want you here. Bart doesn't need charity. His interest in the San Pablo makes him independent. He could buy a building lot anywhere he chose in Bloomfield; but it happens Frank owns the best lot near us, and our selfish desire to have you close by is one motive for the present."
"Selfish, Inza? There never was a selfish bone in you or in your husband. I understand and appreciate the spirit of the gift, and I'm sure Bart will. Oh, won't it be the finest thing to plan our new house, to watch while it is being built, to furnish it, and finally to move into it and start with a real home of our own!"
Again they were silent.
Amid the trees birds were calling, mate to mate. A proud redbreast danced across the lawn, pausing to capture a fated insect, then flew up into one of the trees to feed its mate upon a nest.
Elsie was watching the maid, now bending over the carriage and crooning softly to the baby.
"Did you ever notice how queerly Lizette does her hair, Inza?"
"Yes, I've noticed," was the answer. "There are several queer things about her. Her skin is strangely dark, almost as if stained, and I know she makes up her eyebrows. Sometimes I've noted that her French, when she speaks in her own language, is anything but correct, yet she seems a girl of some education. Her intonation is occasionally a trifle different from that of most French people I've met."
"But she's very faithful."