"Coming home that day he said he knew you were a little genius and should not hide your light under a bushel, but set it on the hill-top. I remember his words, because they sounded so funny then that they made me laugh."
"Pooh! what does he know about it? What a little simpleton I must have been to do everything he used to tell me to! Still, that was good advice about going to school, and I don't know but what, on the whole, I feel grateful to him for it. That was two years ago—wasn't it, Em? Why, it seems like yesterday."
"And that funny brother of his," said Emily, laughing at some recollections of her own, "he used to say things in such a droll way. I wonder if they'll ever come back."
"Why, what would bring them back, now that their uncle is gone away for his health? I wonder if traveling really does make sick people well?"
"Don't know, I'm sure. Isn't it a pity to have such a nice house as that shut up and so lonely and deserted looking?"
"I wish that house was mine," said Georgia. "I should like to live in a large, handsome place like that. I hate little old cramped places like our cottage—they're horrid."
"Why, that's coveting your neighbor's goods," said Emily. "Look out, Georgia."
"Well, then, I should like one as good as that. I wish I owned one just like it. I shall, too, some day," said Georgia, decidedly.
"Do tell," said Emily, "where are you going to get it? Are you going to rob a peddler?"
"No. I intend to be rich."