“Ah, who so progressive as Miss Frink!” said Goldstein devoutly. “This property is too valuable for its present use. I will put an apartment building here that you will be proud to live in—proud, Colonel Duane.”
“I—I can’t realize that what you say is true.”
“Oh, there is nothing to worry you,” said Goldstein soothingly. “You will not be required to leave before the autumn. I’m sure we would not do anything to disturb or annoy so respected a citizen.” The speaker’s eyes wandered afield. “I wanted to see what the chances would be of retaining that old elm in the corner there. You know, Colonel Duane, to me a fine tree is an asset. There is something money cannot buy. It is worth a sacrifice to retain it. It is a thing that the years only can produce. It is—” He turned to face his companion, but the old gentleman had gone.
Colonel Duane entered the room where his granddaughter was, and Millicent started up in alarm.
“What is it Grandpa? Are you ill?”
“I’ve had a shock, Milly. Miss Frink is going to sell our place.”
“Oh, I can’t believe it! Not without any warning.”
“Mr. Goldstein, of the Koh-i-noor, is going to buy it. He is out there now, looking the ground over.”
Millicent ran to the window. She could see the purchaser, his hands folded behind him looking up at the fine old tree. She turned back to her grandfather with eyes that flashed. Her soft lips set in a hard line.