"Of course. A silk waist, a satin skirt, some silk stockings—but most of all, a real sure enough piano," she gasped. And then, as though in reproach of her selfishness, "And I could pay off the mortgage on Aunt Tillie's farm back in the clearing!"
"How much is that?"
"Three thousand dollars. I've already paid off three hundred."
"There ought to be enough for that," said Peter soberly.
"Oh, Mr. Nichols. I hope you don't think I'm an awful fool talkin' this way."
"Not unless you think I am."
"But it is nice to dream of things sometimes."
"Yes. I do that too. What do you dream of, Beth?"
"Oh, of bein' a great singer, mostly—standin' on a stage with people lookin' up and clappin' their hands at me."
"What else?"