“Maurice, how dare you; I forbid it; I have decided. You will go south, and I will begin to live. I am going to stop wishing.”
“Well, I have long ago ceased to wish; wishing was the only passion I ever had; I have given it up. But I have not wished for money; sometimes I have wished for health—”
He did not finish his sentence; he only thought of what he had longed for more than anything else, the love of his beautiful, impulsive sister. Eloise was dusting her geranium leaves. Maurice looked from his window into the tree on which the leaves were not yet thick enough to hide the old nests.
A short time after this a rather curious advertisement appeared in one of the city papers. It read: “Very handsome old oak furniture. Secretaire with small drawers. A dower chest and a little table. Each article richly carved. For particulars call at No. 68 Rue Alfred de Musset, Viger.”
Eloise read this advertisement to her brother.
“What does this mean?” he asked. “We have no such furniture, but it is our number true enough. Is this the commencement?”
“Yes, my dear, that is what it is.”
The next day callers in response to this advertisement began to arrive. Eloise answered the bell herself. The first was a rather shabby old man who wore a tall hat and green glasses. He produced a crumpled clipping from the paper, and, smoothing it out, handed it to Eloise.
“I have come to buy this second-hand furniture,” he explained, holding his hat by the brim. Eloise looked at the advertisement as if she had never seen it before.
“There must be some mistake,” she said. “I have no such furniture.”