suspended above his cakes, "I guess it's a fact she wants it, all
right."

"I should think she'd rather have new furniture; Henry, they do say
the house is going to be handsome. But you say she wants the old
stuff? Ain't that queer, for anybody with means."

"Well, that Orr girl beats me," Mr. Daggett acknowledged handsomely.
"She seems kind of soft an' easy, when you talk to her; but she's got
ideas of her own; an' you can't no more talk 'em out of her--"

"Why should you try to talk 'em out of her, papa?" inquired Mrs.
Daggett mildly. "Mebbe her ideas is all right; and anyhow, s'long as
she's paying out good money--"

"Oh, she'll pay! she'll pay!" said Mr. Daggett, with a large gesture.
"Ain't no doubt about her paying for what she wants."

He shoved his plate aside, and tipped back in his chair with a heavy
yawn.

"She's asked me to see about the wall paper, Abby," he continued,
bringing down his chair with a resounding thump of its sturdy legs.
"And she's got the most outlandish notions about it; asked me could I
match up what was on the walls."

"Match it up? Why, ain't th' paper all moldered away, Henry, with the
damp an' all?"

"'Course it is, Abby; but she says she wants to restore the