“I’ll give you fifteen hundred for the house and grounds.”
“Fifteen hundred!” the old lady exclaimed shrilly. “For a house which cost at least forty thousand to build! Aren’t you being outrageously reckless?”
“Old houses are a drug on the market these days, Madam. You’ll find no other buyer in Riverview, I am quite sure. In fact; I wouldn’t make you such a generous offer except that I think this place might be fixed up as a tourist home.”
“A tourist home!” Mrs. Marborough cried furiously. “You would make this beautiful, colonial mansion into a cheap hotel! Oh, go away, and never, never show your face here again!”
“Very well, Madam,” Mr. Franklin responded, still smiling. “However, I warn you that my next offer for the property will not be as generous a one.”
“Generous!” Mrs. Marborough fairly screamed for she was determined to have the final word. “Your price would be robbery! You’re just like your father, who was one of the worst skinflints I ever knew!”
Mr. Franklin had nothing more to say. With a shrug, he turned and strode from the yard. Mrs. Marborough gazed after him for a moment, and then sinking down on the stone bench, began to cry. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned her head and saw the three girls. Hastily, she dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.
“Oh, Mrs. Marborough, don’t feel badly,” Penny said quickly. “We heard what he said to you. Mr. Franklin should be ashamed of himself.”
“That man doesn’t affect me one way or the other,” the old lady announced with a toss of the head. The girls accepted the explanation with tranquil faces although they knew very well why Mrs. Marborough had wept. Rhoda wandered to the wishing well, peering down into the crystal-clear water.
“Do you know, I’m tempted to make another wish,” she remarked. “Would it be very selfish of me?”