"I thought so," she said. "It is a square house, painted a cream color, with a few elms around it, and quite a grove at a little distance behind it."
"It is. But you forgot the barn and the chicken-houses."
She laughed joyously. "I didn't think of them."
"And the well-sweep."
"I'm afraid I didn't think of that, either."
"I should really like to know how you knew," he observed, as if wondering. "Perhaps it is not worth while going there. But I want to see it again, if you don't."
"Oh, I do. I am very much interested, and you know you are to tell me what you are planning."
"Yes," he replied. "I meant to tell you. That was what I brought you for. But I thought you would be surprised and I hoped that you might be pleased."
"Trust me for that, Fox, if your plans are what I hope they are. If they are, I shall be very happy."
They stopped in the road before the square house that was painted cream color. Fox gazed at it longingly. It seemed to be saying, "Come in! Come in!" and reaching out arms to him. There was the old well at one side, with its great sweep. The ground about the well was bare of snow and there was a path from it to the kitchen door. Thin curls of smoke were coming lazily from each of the great chimneys.