But the miller had scant interest in these plans. He interrupted her by turning to Martha Chester and saying:
"I suppose, Martha, that thee has reconsidered thy objection to selling south meadow, or are ready to pay me my money loaned thee 'on demand.' Is thee ready?"
"Oh! sir!" began the troubled housemistress, and was amazed that a child should interfere by saying:
"Wait a moment, mother dear. How much do my parents owe you 'on demand'?"
At a nod from Mr. Winters she had slipped away and as swiftly returned and now stood before the astonished company, holding a fat purse in her hands and calmly awaiting the miller's reply.
For an instant he could not make it. His amazement was too deep. The next with a sort of chuckle, as if sure that so large an amount could not be held in so small a compass, he announced the sum with interest in full.
"Very well. Here, father, is the money. More I think than you will need. It is mine. My very own to give to you and mother, as I do give it now. Mr. Winters knows. He will explain. Pay the man, do please, and let him go."
John Chester glanced at Seth Winters and received that gentleman's confirmatory nod; then he promptly opened the pocket-book and counted out the crisp banknotes which freed him and his home from the society of the miller and his men.
Oliver departed. If he were crestfallen he did not show it, and in that respect the worthy smith and Mrs. Cecil both were disappointed. He even ventured to congratulate the Chesters upon the possession of "such a forehanded" daughter and to wish them every prosperity. With that and summoning his surveyors, he took his benign presence out of the way.
Strangely enough, the surveyors did not at once follow, even to secure their wage which so just a man would surely pay. They even made light of such wages. During the time of waiting they had made other possible arrangements with the gentlemen in the garden, and they waited still further, with admirable patience, to see if these arrangements were correct.