“I don't think she has, Mr. Banks.”
“Of course you know that Squire Leech wants to buy it.”
“Yes, sir. He told me that he wanted to purchase it for your use.”
“Just so,” said the superintendent, stopping work: “I've taken a fancy to that house, and so has Mrs. Banks You had better accept the squire's offer.”
“That would be too much of a sacrifice, Mr. Banks The squire wants to get the place considerably below its value.”
“Very likely you overvalue it.”
“Mother is attached to it. She would rather have it than a nicer house. Father built it, and it was here they lived for nearly fifteen years.”
“No doubt—no doubt,” said Banks, impatiently; “but poor folks can't afford to be sentimental. If it's for your mother's interest to sell, then she'd ought to sell, that's my opinion.”
“We may have to sell some time, but as long as we can hold on to the place, we mean to.”
“I may as well say,” said the superintendent, “that the squire has authorized me to hire you to work, in case your mother consents to sell.”