"Of course I thought of that," he answered, with some impatience. "But how am I to find out about it without exciting the cupidity of the native farmers? Once aroused, it is a terrible thing. I might advertise: 'Wanted, a place of not less than fifty acres, with large house commanding a good view over a valley, a herd of about twenty-five Guernseys, a barn with all the modern improvements, and a power pump. Price no object.' Rather narrows it down a trifle."

Mrs. Ladue almost chuckled. "I won't keep you in suspense," she said.

"Uncle John owned it when he brought me out here. He told me so. And he owned this house, too."

"Uncle John!" cried Fox. "He knew a thing or two, didn't he? I wish I had found it while he was living. Now, I suppose I shall have to buy it of Miss Patty; that is, if I can. Who is the executor of the will?

Do you know?"

She shook her head. "I haven't heard anything about the will, yet. I think it's likely to be d.i.c.k Torrington. Uncle John seemed to like d.i.c.k very much and he thought very well of him."

"I'll see d.i.c.k Torrington to-day. We may as well go back." He turned the horse about; then stopped again, looking back at the cream-colored house. He looked for a long time. "It's very pleasant," he said, at last, sighing. "Those trees, now--those in the grove--do they strike you as being suitable for a gynesaurus to climb? Do they?" he asked softly.

His eyes looked into hers for a moment. His eyes were very gentle--oh, very gentle, indeed, and somewhat wistful; windows of the soul. At that moment he was laying bare his heart to her. She knew it; it was a thing she had never known him to do before.

She put her hand to her heart; an involuntary movement. "Oh, Fox!" she breathed. "Oh, Fox!" Then she spoke eagerly. "Will you--are you going to--"

He smiled at her, and his smile was full of gentleness and patience.

"I hope so," he answered. "In the fullness of time. It is a part of my dearest wish. Yes, when the time is ripe, I mean to. Not yet. She is not ready for it yet."

"She is nearly twenty-one," Mrs Ladue said anxiously, "and beginning to be restless under her teaching. Don't wait too long, Fox. Don't wait too long."

"I have your blessing, then? I have your best wishes for my success?"

"You know you have," she murmured, a little catch in her voice.

"I thought that I could count on them," he replied gratefully, "but I thank you for making me certain of it."

She seemed as if about to speak; but she said nothing, after all. Fox smiled and took up the reins again. The drive back was a silent one.

Fox was busy with his own thoughts; and Mrs. Ladue, it is to be supposed, was busy with hers.

CHAPTER VIII

d.i.c.k Torrington was out when Fox called at his office, early that afternoon. They were expecting him at any moment. He had not come back from lunch yet. He did not usually stay so long and wouldn't Doctor Sanderson take a seat and wait a few minutes? Accordingly, Doctor Sanderson took a seat and waited a few minutes. He waited a good many minutes. He read the paper through; then paced slowly up and down the waiting-room. Were they sure Mr. Torrington would come back? Oh, yes, they thought so. They did not know what could be keeping him. So Doctor Sanderson thought he would wait a few minutes longer.

The truth was that it was Henrietta who was keeping d.i.c.k away from his office and his waiting clients. As she was to go within a few days, d.i.c.k thought the time propitious for taking her for a last sleigh ride; it might happen to be the last and it might not. Henrietta, too, thought the time propitious. I don't know what Fox would have thought, if he had known it. Most likely he would have grinned and have said nothing, keeping his thoughts to himself. He was an adept at keeping his thoughts to himself. But there is reason to believe that he would not have waited. Just as his patience was utterly exhausted and he was going out, d.i.c.k came in. There was a rather shamefaced grin of pleasure on his face which changed to a welcoming smile when he saw Fox. It was a very welcoming smile; more welcoming than the occasion seemed to call for. Fox wondered at it. But he was not to find out the reason that day.

They came to business at once. d.i.c.k was the executor, but he had not notified the beneficiaries under the will yet. It was really a very short time since Mr. Hazen's death. Fox, wondering what that had to do with the matter, protested mildly that the only question with him was whether he could buy certain properties of the estate. He would prefer to deal with d.i.c.k rather than with Miss Patty.

d.i.c.k laughed. "Oh," he said, "I forgot that you didn't know. Those pieces of property that you are after--I know very well what they are," he interrupted himself to say, "and I can guess what you want them for--those pieces of property were left to Sally. I shall have to refer you to her."

Fox's amazement was comical. "Left to Sally!" he exclaimed. "Well! And it never occurred to me."

"It probably has never occurred to Sally either," d.i.c.k suggested. "She has more than that. Her uncle John was very fond of her."

"I am sure that it has not occurred to Sally. What will Miss Patty think?"

d.i.c.k shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "n.o.body does. I don't know just how she feels toward Sally. If it were Charlie, now,--but it isn't. About these properties, you will have to see Sally. She isn't at liberty to dispose of them yet, but if she agrees to, there will be no difficulty. I shall not stand in the way of your doing anything you want to do with them. It happens that the lease of them runs out in a few months. I really don't believe that Miss Patty will contest the will, even if she doesn't just like it. Mr. Hazen's word was the law, you know."

Fox was looking out of the window and, as he looked, his glance chanced to fall upon Miss Patty herself, stepping along in a way which she had fondly flattered herself was dainty.

He smiled. "You never can tell about these nervous patients," he observed. "They may do anything--or they may not. But I think I'd better see Sally and break the news."

He found the chance on the evening of that same day. Everett went out, immediately after dinner, as was his habit, and Mrs. Morton left them alone. Sally was reading.

"Sally," said Fox, "I understand that you are an heiress."

Sally put down her book suddenly and gave him a startled glance. "Oh,"

she exclaimed, "I hope not! Who told you?"

"d.i.c.k Torrington. He is the executor."

"Oh, Fox!" she cried. She seemed dismayed. "And d.i.c.k knows. But Patty will never forgive me. Can't I help it?"

"No doubt," he replied, smiling, "but I hope you won't, for I want to buy some of your property."

She laughed joyously. "I'll give it to you, you mercenary man! At last, Fox, I can get even with you--but only partly," she hastened to add; "only partly. Please say that you'll let me give it to you."

Fox was embarra.s.sed. "Bless you, Sally!" he said. At that moment, he was very near to heeding Mrs. Ladue's injunction not to wait too long.

He stopped in time. "Bless you, Sally! You have paid me. I don't need money anyway."

"Neither do I."

"The time may come when you will. It is a handy thing to have," he went on. "I promise to let you pay me some day," he added hastily, seeing that she was about to insist, "in kind."

Sally nodded with satisfaction. "I'll do it," she said, "in kind. That usually means potatoes and corn and firewood, doesn't it."

"Not this time, it doesn't. But I can't let you think of giving me these places."

"You can't help my thinking of giving them to you," she interrupted.

"For you don't even know what they are," Fox continued. "I didn't mean to tell you yet, but I have to." And he told her what he wanted to do; but only a part. It is to be noted that he said nothing about gynesauruses and coal-trees.

When he had finished Sally sighed. "It's too bad that I can't give them to you, Fox. I think it would be a very good way; an excellent way."

"Excellent?" he asked.

"Yes, excellent," Sally answered, looking at him and smiling in her amused way. "Why isn't it?"

"Nonsense! It's absurd; preposterous. It's positively shocking. Sally, I'm surprised at you."

Sally shook her head. "No," she said obstinately, "it's an excellent way to do. You can't say why it isn't. Why, just think, then I should feel that I could come there when I am old or when I break down from overwork. Teachers are apt to break down, I understand, and now, when they do, there seems to be no course open to them but to hire a hea.r.s.e--if they've saved money enough. Think how much easier I should feel in my mind if Sanderson's Retreat were open to me." And Sally chuckled at the thought.

"But Sanderson's Retreat would be open to you in any case," Fox protested. "You would not have to hire a hea.r.s.e. It is my business to prevent such excursions. Have I ever failed you, Sally?"

"Oh, Fox, never." There were tears in her eyes as she got up quickly and almost ran to him. "Never, never, Fox. That is why, don't you see?