"When did the azaleas get here?
Thomas has got the white one in my room."
"I told him to put it there."
"But, I say, it's much the finest of the lot!"
"That's why I had it put there. There is
too much color in that room for a red one,
you know."
Bartley began to sort the greens. "It looks
very splendid there, but I feel piggish
to have it. However, we really spend more
time there than anywhere else in the house.
Will you hand me the holly?"
He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked
under his weight, and began to twist the
tough stems of the holly into the frame-
work of the chandelier.
"I forgot to tell you that I had a letter
from Wilson, this morning, explaining his
telegram. He is coming on because an old
uncle up in Vermont has conveniently died
and left Wilson a little money--something
like ten thousand. He's coming on to settle up
the estate. Won't it be jolly to have him?"
"And how fine that he's come into a little
money. I can see him posting down State
Street to the steamship offices. He will get
a good many trips out of that ten thousand.
What can have detained him? I expected him
here for luncheon."
"Those trains from Albany are always
late. He'll be along sometime this afternoon.
And now, don't you want to go upstairs and
lie down for an hour? You've had a busy morning
and I don't want you to be tired to-night."
After his wife went upstairs Alexander
worked energetically at the greens for a few
moments.
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