"Painting it, or brightening it, or—or anything of that kind?"
"Who ever heard of painting a house!"
From which it may be gathered that the good lady was not in the habit of visiting other cities.
"Well then, washing it?"
"Mr. Henderson washing his house! Whatever would he do that for?"
"Tuts, tuts," said her brother, "I'm only asking you. It looks so uncommonly distinct. Can you not count the chimney-cans?"
"Me? You must get younger eyes than mine, Heriot."
"I can count them," he answered.
"You can! But I thought you'd been complaining you couldn't always recognize people across the street nowadays."