"I'm not fickle, papa," said Patty, "and it's all arranged all right just as it is; but I don't want a rented house, they won't let you drive tacks in the walls, or anything like that. Let's buy a house, and then, if you turn fickle and want to move away, we can sell it again."
"All right," said Mr. Fairfield obligingly, "what house shall we buy?"
"I know just the one," cried Marian; "guess where it is."
"Would you, by any chance, refer to the Bigelow house?" inquired
Frank politely.
"How did you know?" exclaimed Marian. "I only heard to-day that it is for sale, and I wanted to surprise you."
"Well, next time you have a surprise in store for us," said Frank, "don't announce it to Elsie Morris over the telephone."
"Oh, did you hear that?"
"As a rule, sister dear, unless you are the matron of a deaf and dumb asylum, you must expect those present to hear your end of a telephone conversation."
"Of course," said Marian; "I didn't think. But, really, wouldn't the Bigelow house be fine? Only a few blocks away from here, and such a lovely house, with a barn and a conservatory, and a little arbour in the garden."
Patty began to look frightened.