"I really don't know. When you get settled up there, I'll come and see."
"Hardly," said Mrs. Rossitur. "I don't believe it would be possible for Emile to get dinner before the tea-time; and I am sure I shouldn't like to propose such a thing to Mrs. Renney."
The doctor fidgeted about a little on the hearth-rug, and looked comical, perfectly understood by one acute observer in the corner.
"Are you wise enough to imagine, Lucy," said Mr. Rossitur, sternly, "that you can carry your whole establishment with you? What do you suppose Emile and Mrs. Renney would do in a farmhouse?"
"I can do without whatever you can," said Mrs. Rossitur, meekly. "I did not know that you would be willing to part with Emile, and I do not think Mrs. Renney would like to leave us."
"I told you before, it is no more a question of liking," answered he.
"And if it were," said the doctor, "I have no idea that
Monsieur Emile and Madame Renney would be satisfied with the
style of a country kitchen, or think the interior of
Yankeeland a hopeful sphere for their energies."
"What sort of a house is it?" said Mrs. Rossitur.
"A wooden-frame house, I believe."
"No, but, dear uncle, do tell me."