"Find a way, in time, of conveying it back to its right owners," said Rose. "Don't you see, Mr. Haye?"
Elizabeth favoured her with a look which effectually spiked that little gun, for the time, and turned her attention again to her father.
"Do you care who buys it of you, so that you get the money?"
"Why, no — but you don't want such a piece of property,
Lizzie."
"I want just such a piece of property."
"But my child, you can't manage it. It would be an absurd spending of your money. There's a farm of two or three hundred acres — more, — besides woodland. What could you do with it?"
"Trust me to take care of my own. May I have it, father?"
"Mr. Haye! —" Rose put in, pouting and whimpering, — "I wish you'd tell Lizzie she's not to look at me so! —"
"Will you sell it to me?" pursued Elizabeth.
"If you'll promise it shall not go back to the original owners in any such way as Rose hinted."