ets in early spring. He leaned out and looked along
the house. It was just a jumble of all sorts of buildings which had
evidently been added at different times. It seemed to be on half a
dozen elevations, and no two windows were of the same size, while
here and there an outside staircase led up into a loft.

Once he had taken it in he dressed like a flash--he could not get out
into that garden quickly enough, to pray the Widow to serve coffee
under a huge tree in the centre of the garden, about the trunk of
which a rude table had been built, and it was there that the Divorcee
found him when she came out, simply glowing with enthusiasm--the
house, the garden, the Widow, the day--everything was perfect.

While they were taking their coffee, poured from the earthen jug, in
the thick old Rouen cups, the Divorcee said:

"How I'd love to own a place like this. No one would ever dream of
building such a house. It has taken centuries of accumulated needs to
expand it into being. If one tried to do the thing all at once it
would look too on-purpose. This place looks like a happy combination
of circumstances which could not help itself."

"Well, why not? It might be possible to have just this. Let's ask the
Widow."

So, when they were sitting over their cigarettes, and the old woman
was clearing the table, the Doctor looked her over, and considered
the road of approach.

She was a rugged old woman, well on toward eighty, with a bronzed,
weather-worn face, abundant coarse gray hair, a heavy shapeless
figure, but a firm bearing, in spite of her rounded back. As far as
they could see, they were alone on the place with her. The Doctor
decided to jump right into the subject.

"Mother," he said, "I suppose you don't want to sell this place?"

The old woman eyed him a moment with her sharp dark eyes.

"But, yes, _Monsieur_," she replied. "I should like it very well, only
it is not possible. No one would be willing to pay my price. Oh, no,
no one. No, indeed."

"Well," said the Doctor, "how do you know that? What is the price?--Is
it permitted to ask?"

The old woman hesitated,--started to speak--changed her mind, and
turned away, muttering. "Oh, no, _Monsieur_,--it is not worth the
trouble--no one will ever pay my price."

The Doctor jumped up, laughing, ran after her, took her by the arm,
and led her back to the table.

"Now, come, come, Mother," he remarked, "let us hear the price at any
rate. I am so curious."

"We