"But she is giving the house away," I exclaimed. "Those bathrooms
have cost much more than she will get out of it. You and I know
that the price is absurd."

He smiled at that. "If you wish to pay more, you may, of course.
She is a fine woman, Miss Blakiston, but you can never measure a
Benton with any yard-stick but their own. The truth is that she
wants the house off her hands this summer. I don't know why. It's
a good house, and she has lived here all her life. But my
instructions, I'll tell you frankly, are to rent it, if I have to
give it away."

With which absurd sentence we went out the front door, and I saw
the pasture, which decided me.

In view of the fact that I had taken the house for my grandnieces
and nephews, it was annoying to find, by the end of June, that I
should have to live in it by myself. Willie's boy was having his
teeth straightened, and must make daily visits to the dentist, and
Jack went to California and took Gertrude and the boys with him.

The first curious thing happened then. I wrote to the agent, saying
that I would not use the house, but enclosing a check for its rental,
as I had signed the lease. To my surprise, I received in reply a
note from Miss Emily herself, very carefully written on thin
note-paper.

Although it was years since I had seen her, the exquisite neatness
of the letter, its careful paragraphing, its margins so accurate
as to give the impression that she had drawn a faint margin line