"Never," said aunty. "It was the pleasantest of old houses; and oh, we were sorry to leave it, weren't we, mother?"
"Why did you leave it, grandmother dear?" said Molly.
"When your grandfather's health obliged him to spend the winters abroad; then we came here," said grandmother.
"Oh yes," said Molly, adding after a little pause, "I would like to see that house."
Aunty smiled. "Few things are more probable than that you will do so," she said, "provided you can make up your mind to cross the sea again."
"Why? how do you mean, aunty?" said Molly, astonished, and Ralph and Sylvia listened with eagerness to aunty's reply.
"Because," said aunty,—then she looked across to grandmother. "Won't you explain to them, mother?" she said.
"Because, my darlings, that dear old house will be your home—your happy home, I trust, some day," said grandmother.
"Is my father thinking of buying it?" asked Ralph, pricking up his ears.
"No, my boy, but some day it will be his. It is your uncle's now, but he is much older than your father, and has no children, so you see it will come to your father some day—sooner than we have thought, perhaps, for your uncle is too delicate to live in England, and talks of giving it up to your father."