“I wish I could think so, but I can’t.”
“Think of something else then. When are we going to leave Marley?”
“The first of September. The new house is a beauty. You haven’t seen it yet, have you?”
“No, and I don’t know as I ever want to.”
“Oh come, Roy, it is ridiculous your being so set or staying in Marley. We can come out here in the summer perhaps, although I’d prefer to go abroad.”
“It must have been nice to live in Europe for a while as Mr. Keeler did, you get so well acquainted with the people.”
“I wonder if they got well acquainted with him,” remarked Jess significantly.
“Oh, I forgot,” returned Roy, and then he remembered what Mr. Keeler had said to him down by the creek about trying to make himself contented with whatever was for the good of the greatest number.
It could not be possible that a man who could give such excellent advice had a record behind him like Martin Blakesley.
“Then you don’t want me to read to you,” Roy added. “What shall we do then? What do you say to a game of Authors?”