Told in a French Garden | Page 3

ever pay my price."
The Doctor jumped up, laughing, ran after her, took her by the arm, and
led her back to the table.
"Now, come, come, Mother," he remarked, "let us hear the price at any
rate. I am so curious."
"Well," said the Widow, "it is like this. I would like to get for it what
my brother paid for it, when he bought it at the death of my father--it
was to settle with the rest of the heirs--we were eight then. They are all
dead but me. But no, no one will ever pay that price, so I may as well
let it go to my niece. She is the last. She doesn't need it. She has land
enough. The cultivator has a hard time these days. It is as much as I can
do to make the old place feed me and pay the taxes, and I am getting
old. But no one will ever pay the price, and what will my brother think
of me when the bon Dieu calls me, if I sell it for less than he paid? As
for that, I don't know what he'll say to me for selling it at all. But I am
getting old to live here alone--all alone. But no one will ever pay the
price. So I may as well die here, and then my brother can't blame me.
But it is lonely now, and I am growing too old. Besides, I don't suppose
you want to buy it. What would a gentleman do with this?"
"Well," said the Doctor, "I don't really know what a _gentleman
would_ do with it," and he added, under his breath, in English, "but I
know mighty well what this fellow could do with it, if he could get it,"
and he lighted a fresh cigarette.
The keen old eyes had watched his face.

"I don't suppose you want to buy it?" she persisted.
"Well," responded the Doctor, "how can a poor man like me say, if you
don't care to name your price, and unless that price is within reason?"
After some minutes of hesitation the old woman drew a deep breath.
"Well," she said, with the determination of one who expected to be
scoffed at, "I won't take a sou less than my brother paid."
"Come on, Mother," said the Doctor, "what did your brother pay? No
nonsense, you know."
"Well, if you must know--it was FIVE THOUSAND FRANCS, and I
can't and won't sell it for less. There, now!"
There was a long silence.
The Doctor and his companion avoided one another's eyes. After a
while, he said in an undertone, in English: "By Jove, I'm going to buy
it."
"No, no," remonstrated his companion, her eyes gazing down the
garden vista to where the wistaria and clematis and flaming trumpet
flower flaunted on the old wall. "I am going to have it--I thought of it
first. I want it."
"So do I," laughed the Doctor. "Never wanted anything more in all my
life."
"For how long," she asked, "would a rover like you want this?"
"Rover yourself! And you? Besides what difference does it make how
long I want it--since I want it now? I want to give a party--haven't given
a party since--since Class Day."
The Divorcée sighed. Still gazing down the garden she said quietly:
"How well I remember--ninety-two!"
Then there was another silence before she turned to him suddenly: "See

here--all this is very irregular-so, that being the case--why shouldn't we
buy it together? We know each other. Neither of us will ever stay here
long. One summer apiece will satisfy us, though it is lovely. Be a sport.
We'll draw lots as to who is to have the first party."
The Doctor waved the old woman away. Her keen eyes watched too
sharply. Then, with their elbows on the table, they had a long and
heated argument. Probably there were more things touched on than the
garden. Who knows? At the end of it the Divorcée walked away down
that garden vista, and the old woman was called and the Doctor took
her at her word. And out of that arrangement emerged the scheme
which resulted in our finding ourselves, a year later, within the old
walls of that French garden.
Of course a year's work had been done on the interior, and Doctor and
Divorcée had scoured the department for old furniture. Water had been
brought a great distance, a garage had been built with servants' quarters
over it--there were no servants in the house,--but the look of the place,
we were assured, had not been changed, and both Doctor and Divorcée
declared that they had had the year of their lives. Well, if they had, the
place showed it.
But, as