Evidently the thought was pleasant to her, and her father rejoiced that he was able to distract her mind from her trouble.
"You have not bought the place, father?"
"No, but a telegram from me will settle the matter. It all depends on you, Olive. As you know, I did not like the thought of going back to The Beeches, neither for your sake nor mine."
"But we could not go there to live at once, father?"
"There need be but little delay. The late owner has only lately died, and left the estate so mortgaged that the heirs cannot afford to live there. They are anxious, moreover, that all the furniture of the house shall be bought with the estate. Of course it will need some amount of overhauling, but it should not take long. If I were to send a telegram to-day, the place would be ours by to-morrow; then if we waited here a week or so, we could go back and take up residence there. Of course you would want to alter a lot of things, but a few days in London would be sufficient for you to select all the things you wanted."
"Suppose I were to say yes, and then were to get tired of it?" she said.
"I don't think you would, Olive; but even if you did, it would be a very good investment."
"Would you sell The Beeches?" she asked.
"Not at present; you see I should like to keep a place near London."
She thought a minute, and as she thought the picture of the old Devonshire home became more and more pleasant. The idea of going back to a London suburb became less and less pleasant, while the thought of an old house situated amongst broad parks, and rich pasture lands which stretched away to the moors, and the sea, grew upon her.