eye," said Malcolm, wiping his moustache before
he gave her an imitation of his own scorn, "and I said, 'Gentlemen,
before the home that was my father's, and will be my son's, passes from
my hands, those hands will be dust!'"

"But why do they want it?" asked Martie after duly applauding this
sentiment.

She was rapidly thinking. The old house was mortgaged, and doubly
mortgaged. It was useless to the average buyer, for besides the fact
that the neighbourhood was no longer Monroe's best, it was four feet
below street level. It was surrounded by useless shabby barns and
outhouses, it was five times too large for the diminished family, and,
in case of Pa's death--and Pa was nearly seventy--it must fetch what it
might, for between Len's constant need of money for the Estates, and
Lydia's mild helplessness, there could be no holding it for a fair
price.

"For the new High School--for the new High School!" her father said
impatiently. For perhaps twenty years he had had occasional offers for
the property, and had always scornfully refused them.

"Yet I think that's rather touching, Pa," Martie said.

"What's touching?" he asked suspiciously, after a moment in which he
obviously tried to see any touching aspect in the affair.

"Why, to have the Monroe High School on the old Monroe site!" Martie
said innocently. "Of course Mr. Tate and Cliff Frost know what it means
to you, and yet I suppose they realize that the neighbourhood is
changing, and that those shops have come in, this side of the bridge,
and that, even if we lived here ten years more, we couldn't twenty. I
agree with your decision, Pa, of course; but at the same time, I see
that no other plot in Monroe would be so fitting!"

Malcolm stirred his tea, raised the cup, and drank off the hot fluid
with great gusto. A faint frown darkened his brow.

"And, pray, where would the family live?" he asked presently.

"Where we ought to be now," Martie answered promptly. "In the Estates.
I have been thinking lately, Pa, that nothing would give that
development such prestige as to have you there! Put up as pretty a
house as you choose, build a drive, and put in a handsome fence, but be
Malcolm Monroe of the Monroe Estates!"

Always captured by phrases, she saw him tug at his moustache to hide a
smile.

"Well!" he said presently. "Well! You astonish me. But yes, I see your
point. I must candidly admit you have a point there. With another
attractive home there--yes,