"Exactly. I knew how it would strike you. We both know the story of the place, but our grandfather's enemy took good care to make his tenement comfortable inside, even if it was ugly as sin outside." For a while Mrs. Kaye remained silent, debating with herself. Very soon she was able to look up and smile gratefully. "Thee knows as well as I what a stab thee has given my pride, Archibald; but there is that saving 'common sense' in the offer, and love is stronger than pride. Tell me what rent thee will ask, and I will take the place if I can." "Ten dollars a month." The prompt, strictly business-like answer fairly startled its hearer. Then she smiled again. "I have never lived anywhere save at Fairacres, thee knows. I must trust thee in the matter. I have no definite ideas about the values of houses, but I think I can pay that. I must. There is nowhere else to go. Yes, I will take it." "It's dirt cheap, Salome. You will never think kindly of me, of course, but I'm dealing squarely, even generously by you. If 'thee'd,'" for the second time he dropped into the speech of his childhood, which his cousin Salome had always retained, and she was quick to observe this, "if thee had trusted me years ago, things might have gone better with us both. When will thee move?" "To-day." "To-day? There's no need for quite such haste." "Thee said 'the sooner the better,' and I agree. Get the lease ready as soon as possible, and I will sign it. I've only one thing to ask about that: please don't have the name put as either 'Hardscrabble' or 'Spite House.' I'd like it called 'Charity House.'" "Upon my word, Salome, you're the queerest mixture of business and sentiment that I ever met. You're as fanciful as a girl, still. But the name doesn't matter. Call the place 'Faith' and 'Hope' as well as 'Charity,' if you wish, after you get there; but I won't alter the lease which I brought along with me last night." "Brought already, Archibald? Thee expected me to go to that place, then?" "Under the circumstances, Salome, and, as you've just admitted, I didn't see what else you could do. I've sent 'Bony' into the village for my lawyer, because I want you should have things all straight. He'll witness our signatures to the lease, and if you'll pick out such furniture as you most especially care to have, I'll try to spare it, though the mortgage covers all." But the speaker's glance moved so reluctantly and covetously over the antique plenishing that Mrs. Kaye promptly relieved his anxiety. "It would be a pity to disturb these old, beloved things in their appropriate places--" "You're right," interrupted the gentleman. "I've a better notion than that. I'll leave whatever is in 'Spite House' for your use, and not break up Fairacres at all." "Is it still furnished, then?"