“Think? I thought—Oh, Azuba!”
“Yup. It's 'oh, Azuba,' I guess. That's what I've been sayin' to myself for quite a spell. I'd have said it to your pa, too, if it would have done any good.”
“It wouldn't. We mustn't say a word to him, or anyone else.”
“I know. And yet, when I think of the way things are goin' at loose ends I have the shakes. Do you know what it's costin' to run this place the way it's run? I know. And I know, too, that nobody else seems to know or care. Your pa trusts everything to his wife, and she trusts everything to that Hapgood. She can't be bothered, she says, and Hapgood's such a capable buyer. Capable! he'll be rich as well as capable if it keeps on, and the rest of us'll be capable of the poorhouse. And there's Serena's health. She's gettin' more nervous all the time, and just wearin' herself out with her papers and conventions and politics and bridge and society. My land! Don't talk to me! And it ain't no use to talk to her. There's got to be somethin' more'n talk.”
Gertrude nodded.
“So I think,” she affirmed. “Azuba, I have a scheme. It may be the best idea in the world and it may be the worst, but I am going to risk it. And you must help me. Will you?”
“Sartin sure I will!”
“And you won't tell a soul, not a living soul?”
“Not one, livin' or dead. You needn't look at me like that. I swan to mercy, I won't tell anybody.”
“Good! Then listen.”