"Why?" he asked.

At first she fenced with the question.

"Because you don't want it. You have more land already than one man
ought to have." "I don't know about what I ought to have, but I know
that if you persist in throwing Redford away, I shall take it." He
smiled at her angry perturbation. "If I find I haven't enough money to
outbid everybody--but I think I have--I can sell Bundaboo. If you won't
have Redford, I will--yes, and every stick and stone that belongs to
it."

"And have people talking and saying that you did it for something else,
and not business reasons."

"People would be right, for once."

"But I won't have it!" cried Deb. "I won't stand being an object of
your benevolence. You want to pay a lot more than the place is worth,
so as to augment our income. You as good as own it--"

"I want to keep your home for you against you change your mind." "The
last thing I shall do, I assure you--particularly after your saying
that." Her nose, in spite of the smut on it, testified to her indignant
dignity, up in the air, with its fine nostrils quivering. "Now, look
here, godpapa--I will not have Redford put up to auction. I'll sell
privately--and to somebody else."

"You cannot."

"Oh, indeed! Not when I am executor?"

"Certainly not--except with the permission of your fellow-executor."

She fell to pleading.

"Oh, let me--do let me! You know what I want--to square up all the
debts and have done with them. I can't sleep for thinking of what we
owe you already. Do you know how much it is? Nearly forty thou--"

He checked her with an impatient wave of the hand.

"All the debts will be provided for, of course. The lawyers will adjust
those matters."

"I don't trust you," she urged, looking at him less angrily, but still
as puzzled and distressed. "I know you have designs to benefit me
somehow--unfairly, and because it's me--and if you only knew how I
HATED to be benefited--"

"I do--nobody better. That is why I am letting you do a lot of things
that won't benefit you, but just the opposite--things you will repent
of horribly by-and-by. Knowing your independent spirit, I do not offer
my advice--"

"Oh!"

"Not effectively. I do not force it upon you. I do not bring my
undoubted powers to bear upon you for your good--"

"Ah!"

"Because I know, of course, that you would rather suffer anything than
be guided by me."

She softened instantly. "I am not such a fool, I hope. But--but you
WILL br