all with an apple tree in
the corner. She says the fruit's not nearly so nice out there."

"Where is the place? Near here?"

"No, not so very. It's in the Berkshires, just out of Great
Barrington. Father's practice was there, and grandfather's, too.
Grandfather built it."

"That's where Lenox is, the Berkshires, isn't it?" the lady inquired
with a yawn.

"Heavens, its nothing like Lenox!" he assured her hastily.

"No?" she moved slightly and scowled.

"My foot's asleep! That comes of sitting here forever!"

She got up slowly and with little tentative gasps and cries stamped
her prickled feet.

"Aunty has several customers who go to Lenox"--a vicious stamp--"it
must be grand there, I think. One of them, a regular swell, too--she
thinks nothing of a hundred and fifty for a dress"--a faint stamp
and a squeal of anguish--"told her that property was going up like
everything around there. You could probably"--a determined little
jump--"sell your old place and buy a nice house right in Lenox."

The young man sat up suddenly. "Sell the place!" he repeated, "sell
the place!"

He had been watching her pretty, vexed contortions with lazy
pleasure, noticing through rings of cigarette smoke her dainty
ankles, white through the mesh of the thin silk stockings, her
straight, slim back, and the clear flush that deepened her eyes. But
now his face changed, and he stared at her in frank irritation.

"Sell the place!" echoed Brother and Miss Honey in horror, and
Caroline's lower lip pushed out scornfully.

The lady stamped again, but not wholly as a therapeutic measure.

"Well, really!" she cried, "any one would think that these children
were your friends, and I was the stranger, from the way you all
talk. What is the matter with you, anyway? What are you quarreling
about, Rob?"

He looked at her thoughtfully, appraisingly.

"I don't think we're quarreling, Tina," he said, "its only that we
look at things differently. And--and looking at things in the same
way rather makes people friends, you know."

He glanced down at the children, close about him now, and then over
appealingly at her. But she had moved to a rock a little away from
them and now sat on it, her face turned toward the road, leaning on
her pale pink parasol: she did not catch the glance.

"What became of the Babe?" Caroline suggested suddenly.

"Babe? She's--her name's Margaret--at school now. She's growing
awfully pretty."

"And is she going to liv