"Aunt Azraella," she said, "you do not understand the invention--no one here does, except me. Either the invention is worth nothing, or it is worth a great deal--more than ten times as much as this offer. You see, the offer proves it is worth something, and if we accepted it we should be cheating ourselves out of about fifty thousand dollars." "Fifty thousand dollars!" Aunt Azraella tossed her head scornfully, words failing to express her opinion of this visionary estimate. "You see; I told you you had no idea of the value of that invention," said Rob. "Pater--our dear father said, the day Mr. Marston was here, that he should refuse an offer of less than fifty thousand dollars. I feel that we have no right to throw it away, for his sake, if not for our own." "If you don't close with this offer at once it may be withdrawn," said Mrs. Winslow, seeing the effect of Rob's argument on her mother. "That's precisely what Mr. Marston writes," said Mrs. Grey, "and that's what frightens me. I am so afraid of refusing the only offer we may ever get." "And I think that proves him dishonest," cried Rob. "He wants to frighten us into closing with him, because he knows if we took time to investigate, we should find out the true value of the machine. He saw enough when he was here--our doing our own work, and our simple way of living--to guess we should need money now we were alone. He is trying to take advantage of a woman and three young girls, and if I have my way, he won't succeed! I hated him the day he was here--he's a villain, if ever there was one, a smiling villain at that." "What do you propose doing, then?" asked Aunt Azraella, satirically. "If you are taking matters into your own hands you ought to have some other plan to propose instead of this certain one--for I hope you realize, Roberta, that you are trying to use your influence with your mother to urge her to throw away a certainty, on the chance of something better, and on the advice of a girl of sixteen, who has as much knowledge of the world as my Tobias has." "I do realize, aunt, and it frightens me, but I was my father's helper all through the last four years he was working on this machine, and I feel I must stand firm, now that he has left it to me. I know we shall be cheated if we take this offer, and sell the bricquette machine to this Mr. Marston," cried Rob. "Mary, Mary, I have no patience!" cried Mrs. Winslow. "Will you, or will you not, listen to reason and be guided by someone with judgment? You see Roberta does not answer my question! Oh, for the land sakes, why do we talk about it as though she were a person to be listened to? What has she to do with it, anyway? I tell you I have no patience. Go over to that desk, and write that man you accept his offer, and I'll post the letter before I go home."