Waldron nodded.
"If it's Thornton, the horse-dealer, he'll do what you want. He's got houses up there."
"It isn't. I haven't seen the man yet."
"Well," said his friend, "I don't know what the deuce Estelle and I are going to do without you. We shall miss you abominably."
"What shall I do without you? That's more to the point. You've got each other for pals—I—"
He broke off and Arthur filled the pregnant pause.
"Look here—Estelle wants to give you a wedding present, old man; and so do I. And as we haven't the remotest idea what would be the likeliest thing, don't stand on ceremony, but tell us."
"I don't want anything—except to know I shall always be welcome when I drop in."
"We needn't tell you that."
"But you must want thousands of things," declared Estelle, "everybody does when they're married. And if you don't, I'm sure Sabina does—knives and forks and silver tea kettles and pictures for the walls."