think."

"Didn't that man--the banker who stole--everybody's money, I
mean--didn't he have any family?" asked Lydia, still without turning
her head. "I suppose he--he died a long time ago?"

"I see the matter of th' title's worrying you, ma'am," said Deacon
Whittle briskly. "I like to see a female cautious in a business way:
I do, indeed. And 'tain't often you see it, neither. Now, I'll tell
_you_--"

"Wouldn't it be well to show Miss Orr some more desirable property,
Deacon?" interposed Wesley Elliot. "It seems to me--"

"Oh, I shall buy the house," said the girl at the window, quickly.

She turned and faced the two men, her delicate head thrown back, a
clear color staining her pale cheeks.

"I shall buy it," she repeated. "I--I like it very much. It is just
what I wanted--in--in every way."

Deacon Whittle gave vent to a snort of astonishment.

"There was another party looking at the place a spell back," he said,
rubbing his dry old hands. "I dunno's I exac'ly give him an option on
it; but I was sort of looking for him to turn up 'most any day.
Course I'd have to give him the first chance, if it comes to a--"

"What is an option?" asked Lydia.