"
Pauline looked her interest. It seemed a very odd, attractive way of
doing things, no long tiresome plannings of ways and means beforehand.
Suppose--when Uncle Paul's letter came--they could set off in such
fashion, with no definite point in view, and stop wherever they felt
like it.
"I can't think," Shirley went on, "how such a charming old place came
to be standing idle."
"Isn't it rather--run down?"
"Not enough to matter--really. I want father to buy it, and do what is
needed to it, without making it all new and snug looking. The sunsets
from that front lawn are gorgeous, don't you think so?"
"Yes," Pauline agreed, "I haven't been over there in two years. We
used to have picnics near there."
"I hope you will again, this summer, and invite father and me. We
adore picnics; we've had several since we came--he and I and the dogs.
The dogs do love picnics so, too."
Pauline had given up wanting to hurry Fanny; what a lot she would have
to tell her mother when she got home.
She was sorry when a turn in the road brought them within sight of the
old manor house. "There's father!" Shirley said, nodding to a figure
coming towards them across a field.
Pages:
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42