It was a very large house, looking out from beneath its canopy of elms over a wide valley; a pleasant prospect of gentle hills and dales, with the little river winding quietly below.
"It is worth looking at," said Fox again. He looked at her, then. She was not laughing, but there was a merry look in her eyes. "What amuses you? I should rather like to know. Isn't my hat on straight?"
She shook her head. "I'll tell you before long. But it is really nothing." Truly it didn't need much to amuse her on that day.
He looked at her again, then looked away. "The house looks as if it might have been a hotel," he remarked; "a little hotel, with all the comforts of home. It is very homelike. It seems to invite you."
"Yes," she replied, "it does."
"And the barn," he went on, "is not too near the house, but yet near enough, and it is very well ordered and it has all the modern improvements. All the modern improvements include a tiled milking-room and, next to it, a tiled milk-room with all the most improved equipment, and a wash-room for the milkers and a herd of about twenty-five registered Guernseys. I know, for I have been over it."
"That sounds very good. I know very little about such things."
"I have had to know. It is a part of my business. That barn and that outfit would be very convenient if the house were—for instance—a private hospital. Now, wouldn't it?"
She made no reply and he turned to her again. She was looking at him in amazement, and her face expressed doubt and a dawning gladness.
"Oh, Fox!"