The young man threw his light cap at the baby's head; it landed grotesquely cocked over one eye, and the General, promptly sitting upon it to protect himself from further attacks, fell into convulsions of laughter as the young man threatened him. "Thea's out West, on a ranch just out of Denver. She was married first, and her boys have ponies now--broncos. Of course it's fine for them out there, but she says she won't be happy till they can get East for a year or two. She wants them to see the place and grow up a little in it. She wants 'em to see the attic and poke about the barn and the stable and climb over the rocks. You see they're on the ranch all summer and in school in Denver all winter, and Thea says they don't know the look of an old stone wall with an apple tree in the corner. She says the fruit's not nearly so nice out there." "Where is the place? Near here?" "No, not so very. It's in the Berkshires, just out of Great Barrington. Father's practice was there, and grandfather's, too. Grandfather built it." "That's where Lenox is, the Berkshires, isn't it?" the lady inquired with a yawn. "Heavens, its nothing like Lenox!" he assured her hastily. "No?" she moved slightly and scowled. "My foot's asleep! That comes of sitting here forever!" She got up slowly and with little tentative gasps and cries stamped her prickled feet. "Aunty has several customers who go to Lenox"--a vicious stamp--"it must be grand there, I think. One of them, a regular swell, too--she thinks nothing of a hundred and fifty for a dress"--a faint stamp and a squeal of anguish--"told her that property was going up like everything around there. You could probably"--a determined little jump--"sell your old place and buy a nice house right in Lenox." The young man sat up suddenly. "Sell the place!" he repeated, "sell the place!" He had been watching her pretty, vexed contortions with lazy pleasure, noticing through rings of cigarette smoke her dainty ankles, white through the mesh of the thin silk stockings, her straight, slim back, and the clear flush that deepened her eyes. But now his face changed, and he stared at her in frank irritation. "Sell the place!" echoed Brother and Miss Honey in horror, and Caroline's lower lip pushed out scornfully. The lady stamped again, but not wholly as a therapeutic measure. "Well, really!" she cried, "any one would think that these children were your friends, and I was the stranger, from the way you all talk. What is the matter with you, anyway? What are you quarreling about, Rob?" He looked at her thoughtfully, appraisingly. "I don't think we're quarreling, Tina," he said, "its only that we look at things differently. And--and looking at things in the same way rather makes people friends, you know."