now what I would give. He seems to mind you more than anybody."

"What keeps him here? Business?"

"I suppose it is partly business," said Dolly slowly, not knowing quite
how to answer. And then darted into her heart with a pang of doubt and
pain, the question: was not Mr. Shubrick entitled to know what kept her
father in England, and the whole miserable truth of it? She had been so
occupied and so happy these last days, she had never fairly faced the
question before. It almost caught her breath away.

"Dolly, when we all go back to America, the house I speak of will not
be 'far off.'"

"No," said Dolly faintly.

"Look here," said he, taking one of her hands. "It is a house I hope
you will like. _I_ like it, though it has no pretension whatever. It is
an old house; and the ground belonging to it has been in the possession
of my family for a hundred years; the house itself is not quite so old.
But the trees about it are. The old house stands shut up and empty. I
told you, I have no one very near of kin left to me; so even when I am
at home I do not go there. I have never lived there since my mother
left it."

Dolly was silent.

"Now, how soon do you think I may have the house opened and put in
order for living in?"

There came up a lovely rose colour in the cheeks he was looking at;
however Dolly answered with praiseworthy steadiness----

"That is a matter for you to consider."

"Is it?"

"Certainly."

"But you know it would be no use to open it, until somebody is ready to
live there."

"No," said Dolly. "Of course--I suppose not."

"So you see, after all, I have to come to you with questions, seeing
you will ask me none."

"Oh," said Dolly, "I will ask you questions, if you will let me. I
would rather ask than answer."

"Very well," said he, laughing. "I give place to you. Ask what you
like."

Then followed silence. The young officer lay easily on the bank at her
feet, holding Dolly's hand; sometimes bringing his eyes to bear upon
her face, sometimes letting them rove elsewhere; amused, but waiting.

"I shall have to begin again," said he.

"No, don't," said Dolly. "Mr. Shubrick, where is your house?"

"About fifty miles from Boston, in one of the prettiest New England
villages on the coast."

"And how much ground is there round it?"

"About a hundred acres."

"Doesn't it spoil a house to be shut up so?"

"It is not good for it. But there is nobody belonging to me that I
would like to s