“If you are doing this for the sake of Abel Edwards's widow and her children, you are acting from a mistaken sense of charity, and showing poor judgment,” said he.
Squire Eben laughed again. “You made no reply to my proposition, doctor,” he said.
“You are in earnest?”
“I am.”
“You understand what you are doing?”
“I certainly do. I am giving you between fifteen and sixteen hundred dollars' worth of land for a thousand.”
“There is no merit nor charity in such foolish measures as this,” said the doctor, half suspicious that there was more behind this, and not put to shame but aroused to a sense of superiority by such drivelling idiocy of benevolence.
“Dare say you're right, doctor,” returned Squire Eben. “I won't even cheat you out of the approval of Heaven. Will you meet me at Means's office to-morrow, with the necessary documents for the transfer? We had better go around to Mrs. Edwards's afterwards and inform her, I suppose.”
“I will meet you at Means's office at ten o'clock to-morrow morning,” said the doctor, shortly. “Good-evening,” and with that turned on his heel. However, when he had opened the door he turned again and called curtly and magisterially after Squire Eben: “I advise you to cultivate a little more business foresight for the sake of your wife and child,” and Squire Eben answered back:
“Thank you—thank you, doctor; guess you're right,” and then began to whistle like a boy as he went down the avenue of pines.