"Marsh?" repeated his wife in a tone of alarm, "how far off is it?"
"We're about two miles from this end; it is two hundred miles long, you remember, extending far over into Illinois. But why that sigh?"
"Ague!"
"Well, don't let us cross the bridge before we come to it. This is a beautiful spot. I think we can, in a few years, make it superior in point of beauty to any we have ever lived in."
"I think so too, if we can keep these fine old oaks."
There were several of them; grand old trees that had stood the storms of centuries, perhaps.
"We will; we'll manage our building in a way not to interfere with them."
At that Mildred's face brightened as it had not since her first sight of the yellow house.
She had been very homesick for the dear old home in Lansdale, though not a word of it had she breathed even into her mother's sympathetic ear.
"How soon can the house be done?" she asked.