During his second visit she brought up a subject which had been troubling her.
“Foster,” she said, “why don’t you sell this house and land? I know you could get a good price for it. Eben Hopkins told me himself that he wants to buy it. Since his house burned down he hasn’t got any regular place to live. Why don’t you let him buy?”
He shook his head. “That’s my business,” he said.
“But it is mine, too, in a way. I keep feelin’ that you are holdin’ on to it just because you don’t want to put me and Millard out. That is silly. I could find another place to go as well as not. Abbie would take me to board. Sometimes I think runnin’ a house, as well as ’tendin’ post office and a hat shop, is more than I ought to do, anyhow. I am gettin’ old and lazy, I guess.”
“Um—yes,” dryly. “You are about as lazy as a mosquito at camp meeting. What would you do with that half-brother of yours, if you boarded out?”
“I should board him out, too. I guess I could find a place where he could work for his board and keep.”
“Humph! When he works I’ll buy a ticket to watch him.... There, there! You stay where you belong.”
“But, Foster, you don’t make a cent rentin’ this house to me. You could get a dozen tenants who would be glad to pay you twice as much. I expect everybody is sayin’ that very thing.”
He pulled his beard. “I expect they are,” he agreed. “Well, my say counts in a few things, even yet. That property is one of ’em. Talk about the weather, Reliance.”
One afternoon in early July when Reliance called at the big house she was refused admittance. Nabby said that the captain was not feeling very well and did not want to see any one. It had happened before and Reliance was neither offended nor worried. The next day, however, when she again called and received the same answer she began to think it strange. The following forenoon Millard, returning from an errand to the store, told her a piece of news.