“Why, I wrote you all about that.”
“Yes, I know you did, but I want to hear more, lots more. And I want to see the house. Just think, I haven't seen it at all. Now, Daddy, you must show me all the rooms right away. We can talk as we go. Come on.”
She led the way and Daniel followed. The house was shown from top to bottom. Gertrude asked many questions, the majority of which seemed to have little to do with the new establishment and more with the life which her parents had spent in it. Captain Dan answered these questions in the intervals between rooms, and his answers were less guarded than they might have been under different circumstances. At length the young lady ceased to question, and the tour of inspection was finished in silence on her part.
When they returned to the library, the captain, who had been waiting for some expression of approval from his daughter, suddenly blurted out:
“Well, why don't you say somethin', Gertie? Don't you like it?”
Gertrude, seated in the easy chair, her elbow resting on the chair arm and her chin supported by her hand, answered promptly.
“No,” she said, “I don't like it at all.”
“What! Don't LIKE it? Don't like this house? Well, for mercy sakes!”
“Oh, not the house; I like that well enough. I liked our old one quite as well—but never mind that now. The house is all right. It is the rest of it that is all wrong. I don't like that.”
“The rest of it? What do you mean?”