ll," said the Widow, "it is like this. I would like to get for it
what my brother paid for it, when he bought it at the death of my
father--it was to settle with the rest of the heirs--we were eight
then. They are all dead but me. But no, no one will ever pay that
price, so I may as well let it go to my niece. She is the last. She
doesn't need it. She has land enough. The cultivator has a hard time
these days. It is as much as I can do to make the old place feed me
and pay the taxes, and I am getting old. But no one will ever pay the
price, and what will my brother think of me when the _bon Dieu_ calls
me, if I sell it for less than he paid? As for that, I don't know what
he'll say to me for selling it at all. But I am getting old to live
here alone--all alone. But no one will ever pay the price. So I may as
well die here, and then my brother can't blame me. But it is lonely
now, and I am growing too old. Besides, I don't suppose _you_ want to
buy it. What would a gentleman do with this?"

"Well," said the Doctor, "I don't really know what a _gentleman
would_ do with it," and he added, under his breath, in English, "but I
know mighty well what this fellow _could_ do with it, if he could get
it," and he lighted a fresh cigarette.

The keen old eyes had watched his face.

"I don't suppose _you_ want to buy it?" she persisted.

"Well," responded the Doctor, "how can a poor man like me say, if you
don't care to name your price, and unless that price is within
reason?"

After some minutes of hesitation the old woman drew a deep breath.
"Well," she said, with the determination of one who expected to be
scoffed at, "I won't take a _sou_ less than my brother paid."

"Come on, Mother," said the Doctor, "what _did_ your brother pay? No
nonsense, you know."

"Well, if you must know--it was FIVE THOUSAND FRANCS, and I
can't and won't sell it for less. There, now!"

There was a long silence.

The Doctor and his companion avoided one another's eyes. After a
while, he said in an undertone, in English: "By Jove, I'm going to buy
it."

"No, no," remonstrated his companion, her eyes gazing down the garden
vista to where the wistaria and clematis and flaming trumpet flower
flaunted on the old wall. "I am going to have it--I thought of it
first. I want it."

"So do I," laughed the Doctor. "Never wanted anything more in all my
life."

"For how long," she asked, "would a rover like you want this?"

"Rover yourself! And you?