“Home!” said Galt. “What’s this, I’d like to know? Not a bolt missing. She’s all fueled ... steam up ... ready to have her throttle pulled open. Go downstairs and hang up your hat. Telephone over for the servants.... How does Gram’ma like it?”
“We haven’t anything here, you know,” Mrs. Galt protested gently. “The girls haven’t and neither have I.”
“I’m here for good,” said Galt. “I want my breakfast in that dining room tomorrow morning.... How does Gram’ma like it?.... What’s the matter?”
They couldn’t evade it any longer. Natalie told him.
“Gram’ma says she won’t live here.”
“Why not?”
“She won’t say why not. Just says she won’t.”
“All right, all right,” said Galt. “Being a woman is something you can’t help. Tell her we’ll give her a deed to the old house ... all for her own. We’ll play company when we come to see her.... That reminds me.”
He brought a large folded document out of his pocket and handed it to Mrs. Galt.