"I believe so. Why are you so particular? Don't you like it?"

Her tone was sharp. Stephen, who resented his uncle's questions as
impertinent intrusions upon the family affairs, added one of his own.

"Isn't it as good as those in--what do you call it--South Denboro?" he
asked, maliciously.

Captain Elisha laughed heartily.

"Pretty nigh as good," he said. "I didn't notice any better on the way
to the depot as I drove up. And I doubt if there's many new ones built
since I left. It's a mighty fine lot of rooms, I think. What's the rent?
You'll excuse my askin', things bein' as they are."

"Twenty-two hundred a year," answered his niece, coldly.

The captain looked at her, whistled, broke off the whistle in the
middle, and did a little mental arithmetic.

"Twenty-two hundred a year!" he repeated. "That's one hundred and
eighty odd a month. Say, that cousin of Mrs. Dunn's must want to get his
investment back. You mean for just these ten rooms?"

Stephen laughed scornfully.

"Our guardian has been counting, Caro," he remarked.

"Yes. Yes, I counted this mornin' when I got up. I was interested,
naturally."