"Well, a part of the property is a house in a town somewhere near Paris; I can't think of the name, but it is a very pretty place, and the house is a very nice house, only old-fashioned. I don't just understand how it is, but by the way the will is made Mrs. Tremaine has to live in the house a certain time, and so she is going to close her house here and sail for France the last of August; and if grandfather is willing, she is going to take me with her. Just think of that!"
"It is exactly like something in a novel," said Marion. "To go and live in an old house in France, with the old furniture and everything! I should think you would be ready to fly."
"It isn't settled yet, you know," said Therese. "But I am glad, for a good many reasons. I am glad not to have to leave Mrs. Tremaine and Kitty, whom I love dearly; and as things are, I am not very sorry to go away from Holford, though every one has been very good to me."
"I am sure I wish somebody would take me away," said Marion. "I would give anything to get away from the old place and never see it again."
"Oh, Marion, how can you, when you have such a lovely home!" exclaimed Therese reproachfully. "You wouldn't want to go and leave your grandfather and your aunt and uncle? I think they are the very best people I ever saw."
Marion was saved the necessity of an answer by their arrival at the door, where Aunt Baby stood waiting with a letter in her hand. There were traces of tears in her eyes, an unwonted sight, but she welcomed the girls cheerfully as usual.
"I have a letter for you, Marie," said she. "What kept you so long?"
"I had to stay to finish up something," answered Marion, giving her usual excuse. "Where is the letter?"
"Here on the table."
Marion seized it eagerly.