"I repeat it, seventy-five thousand dollars, and that in a country where a family with a thousand a year can live on the fat of the land! Our firm declares that our fortune will be as much to us, out there, as half a million would be in New York. Doesn't that make your heart dance? I can give you horses and carriages, dress you in silks and laces, hire plenty of servants for you; in short, make you in appearance and luxury what you will be by nature, the finest lady in the county. Dear woman, the better I've learned to know you, the more guilty I've felt at having married you; for I saw plainly that you were fit to adorn any station in the world, instead of being the wife of a man so poor that you yourself had to work for wages to help us have a home. At times I've felt so mean about it that--" Grace stopped further utterance on the subject by murmuring:-- "Seventy-five thousand dollars! What shall we do with it?" "Enjoy it, dear girl; that's what we shall do. We've youth, health, taste, spirits, energy, and best of all, love. If all these qualities can't help us to enjoy money, I can't imagine what else can. Besides, Claybanks is bound to be a city in the course of a few years--so uncle said; and if he was right, we will be prepared to take the lead in society. 'Twon't be injudicious to have the largest, best-furnished house, and a full circle of desirable acquaintances, against the time when the sleepy village shall be transformed in a day, Western fashion, into a bustling city." The several days that followed were spent largely in longings to get away, and regrets at leaving New York's many new delights that were at last within reach; but finally Philip wrote Caleb Wright that he would arrive at Claybanks on a specified date, and asked that the best room in the best hotel be engaged for him. The couple reached the railway station at dawn of a dull December morning, and after an hour of effort, while Grace remained in the single room at the station and endeavored not to be nauseated by the mixed odors of stale tobacco, an overloaded stove, and a crate of live chickens awaiting shipment, Philip found a conveyance to take them to Claybanks. The unpaved road was very muddy, and the trees were bare, the farm-houses were few and unsightly. Philip was obliged to ask:-- "Isn't it shockingly dismal?" "Is this the road," Grace answered, "over which you walked, at night, when you visited your uncle?" "The very same, I suppose, for there's never a choice of roads between two unimportant places." "Then I sha'n't complain," said Grace, nestling very close to her husband. The outlook did not improve as the travellers came near to the village of Claybanks. Houses were more numerous, but most of them were very small, many were unpainted, and some were of rough logs. The fences, while exhibiting great variety of design, were almost uniform in shabbiness.