"You tell me that this Flanders—Flinders'—farm is not rented. Why not hire that, and begin? I'll pay the rent, and if the work is inspired it will grow, and something else will come from this small beginning. If not, no harm is done; you have made your experiment, and will turn your energies to the next work at hand. What say you?" And Mr. Armstrong paused, looking from Wythie to Rob, excluding the mother as if he wanted to deal here with the girls only.
"Well, why did we never once think of the Flinders' place?" gasped Wythie. "That would help the Flinders, as well as start our home. It is a wonderful idea, Mr. Armstrong!"
"The farm would rent for a hundred a year," said Rob, eying their would-be benefactor doubtfully.
"Very probably. Well, will you accept my offer?" asked Mr. Armstrong.
"Oh, you kindest of fairy godfathers!" cried Rob, laughing, yet very much in earnest. "I should think we would accept it, and bless you every day. We will call the farm the Sweet William Farm," she added slyly.
"Nonsense!" cried the old gentleman, much pleased. "Then it is a bargain. Baldwin and I talked it over coming out on the train last night and made up our minds to help you children, he with his legal lore and I with my wealth galore. Well, I shall lose my train!" he cried hastily, consulting a watch very thin and small in proportion to its owner. "Good-bye, little Grey girls. Goodbye, Mrs. Grey. I shall come out again, purposely to see you, and to complete our arrangements, after you have heard from Polly's mother. This is a blessed little grey house, and I believe that it is going to prove like the mustard tree, whose branches reach out and shelter the helpless creatures."
He was gone in an instant, and Wythie and Rob fairly flew up-stairs to announce to Hester their startling news, news which made that young woman sit up, her eyes dilating as she realized that it rendered the beginning of her beloved project possible with no further delay.
Rob and Wythie took Hester to the station, from which point Wythie returned home, while Rob went on up the hill to Aunt Azraella's. Her mother and Cousin Peace had prepared Rob's mind for something out of the ordinary in this visit by telling her that Mrs. Winslow had something important to discuss with her, the nature of which they were under solemn promise not to reveal.
Rob was not greatly interested in the matter; her mind was so full of the prospect for Polly, and of the events of the night before. She was tired, and yet the echoes of the gavotte still haunted her. Aunt Azraella's momentous announcements usually proved less impressive to others than to herself.
Roberta found Mrs. Winslow seated in the westerly window enjoying the declining sun, with Tobias, who was of late allowed to visit other rooms than the kitchen, sitting solemnly blinking near her.