"Life isn't such a joyous game, is it, Mally, that you'd like to play it for ever?"
"I've no call to complain," she replied.
Joel took his pipe from his pocket and lit it.
"Neither have I," he said. "Fate kicked me badly once, but she's made up for it since. I'm a rich man, Mally."
"I'm glad to hear it. I hope you'll use your wealth wisely."
"I shall not tie it up in a napkin like great-granny Lynn. By-the-bye, I must go and see her this morning. Barbara, I suppose, still manages the farm?"
"She's a fine lass!" said the old woman warmly.
"Handsome—eh?"
"I'm no judge."
"And Lucy—is she as pretty as ever? But now I come to think of it you didn't consider her pretty. Well, I hope she's living in the seventh heaven of happiness with her big booby of a husband. I never thought that Peter Fleming would marry her—Barbara was more in his line."