"Hullo!" said Max again.
He extended a careless hand and gave his future brother-in-law a hard grip. There was no particular friendliness in the action, it was evidently his custom to grip hard.
"Come to investigate your new abode?" he said. "Are you going to pull it down?"
"It is not my present intention," Mordaunt said.
"Of course he isn't!" said Chris. "Don't be absurd, Max. It is going to be made lovely inside and out, and we are all going to live here."
"Are we?" said Max, with a sudden grin. "Who says so?"
He glanced at Mordaunt with the words, and it was Mordaunt who answered him—
"I hope you and your brothers will continue to look upon it as your home until you have homes of your own."
"Very rash of you!" commented Max, swinging round again to the gate.
"Well, come inside and see it."
They went within, went from room to room of the old place, Max with the air of a sardonic showman, Mordaunt gravely attentive to details, Chris light-footed, eager with many ideas for its reformation. The mildewed walls and partially dismantled rooms, with their moth-eaten furniture and threadbare carpets, had no damping effect upon her spirits. She had a boundless faith in her fiancé's power to transform her ancient home into a palace of delight.