“This is a plan of two cottages exactly the shape and size of this one in which we sit, but with a few more rooms and out-houses behind. The empty space between them represents the site of this cottage. The one on the right is intended for Captain Millet. That on the left for—”
“For the secretary and his wife,” cried the captain again, taking up the discourse. “An’ look here, what d’ye think the double lines in pencil ’tween your cottage an’ mine means?”
“A wash-house, perhaps.”
“A wash’us,” repeated the captain, with contempt. “No; that’s a passage from one house to the other, so as you an’ I can visit comfortably in wet weather. There’s a door in the middle with two locks, one on each side; so that if either of us should chance to be in the dumps, we’ve got only to turn the key on our own side. But the passage ain’t in the plan, you see. It’s only a suggestion. Then, Rosebud, what d’ye think that thing is atop of my cottage?”
“It—it looks like a—a pepper-box,” replied Rose, with some hesitation.
“Pepper-box!” repeated the captain, in disgust; “why, it’s a plate-glass outlook, where I can sweep the horizon with my glass all round, an’ smoke my pipe in peace and comfort, and sometimes have you up, my girl, to have a chat about old times. But that’s not all, Molly. Here’s a letter which you can put in your pocket an’ read at your leisure. It says that the tin mine in which you have shares has become so prosperous that you could sell at ten or twenty times the price of your original shares; so,—you see, you are independent of me altogether as to your livelihood. Now, old girl, what d’ye think of all that?”
The captain threw himself back in his chair, wiped his brow and looked at his sister with an air of thorough satisfaction.
“I think,” returned Miss Millet slowly, “that God has been very good to us all.”
“He has, sister, He has; and yet the beginning of it all did not seem very promising.”
The captain cast a glance at Jeff as he spoke. The youth met the glance with a candid smile.