Page:Dorothy Canfield - Rough-hewn.djvu/412

 already noticed and thought the most delightful thing in the world.

"And I'm on my way back to America now to see about it."

"What does that mean—to 'see about it'?" she inquired.

"Oh, sell it, of course."

She was horrified. "Sell it? To whom?"

"Oh, to anybody who'll buy it."

"Sell that darling old house, and those glorious elms. Sell that beautiful leaded-glass door, with the cool white marble steps leading up to it, and the big peony-bushes, and the syringas and that cold pure spring-water that runs all day and all night in the wooden trough. Sell that home! And to anybody!" She paused where she was, looking at him out of wide, shocked eyes. Neale was profoundly thankful for anything that would make her look straight at him like that.

"But, you see," he told her, "I hadn't the least idea about that darling old house, or the elms or the spring-water or anything. I never heard a word about it till this minute. I think the only thing is for you to start in and tell me everything."

As she hesitated, professing with an outward opening of her palms that she really didn't know exactly where to begin, he prompted her.

"Well, begin at the beginning. How in the world do you get there?"

"Oh, if you want to know from the beginning," she told him, "I must tell you at once that you change cars at Hoosick Jimction. Always, always, no matter from which direction you approach, you must change cars at Hoosick Junction, and wait an hour or so there." Seeing on his face a rather strange expression, she feared that he had lost the point of her little pleasantry, and inquired, "But perhaps it is that you do not know Hoosick Junction."

"Oh, yes, I know Hoosick Junction all right." He said it with a long breath of wonder. "I changed cars at Hoosick Junction to get here!"

"Eh bien, and then a train finally takes you from Hoosick