“Oh, I don’t know,” Max replied, slowly.  “Haven’t made up my mind.  I’m considering an offer now for the place.  Some people like to get into town, as you say, but plenty more appreciate life in the country, when they can get such a spot as this.  Values in such property are going up, not down, in my opinion.”

If Sally could have heard him!

CHAPTER X

JACK-O’-LANTERNS

To the strains of the intermezzo from the “Cavalleria Rusticana,” which the orchestra was sending out through the open windows, Max was returning from the gateway to the house.  The October night was so mild that he had stolen out bareheaded upon the errand which had taken him to the road.  The errand might have been considered an odd one:  he wanted to look at the house!

To be sure, illuminated as it was by many gayly coloured lights, the lanterns glowing all across the porch and down the driveway, it was well worth looking at.  But it was not this decorative effect which the young host had come out to exult over.  And, viewed as a residence only, he had certainly observed it many times before, and under varying conditions.  He knew to a nicety just how many slats were lacking from certain of the blinds, just how the ragged edge of the great chimney showed against the sky line, precisely where the big pillared porch needed repairing.  No, it was not in any of these aspects that he had come curiously out to view it now.  He wanted to see it with the eyes of the prospective purchasers, Jarvis Burnside and Neil Chase.  He wanted particularly to see it as Chase saw it, that upon mention of the fact that Max had already been interviewed by a prospective buyer, he had, in spite of his effort to appear indifferent, really shown such eagerness to be given an option upon the place.

Max walked slowly back toward the house, under the shadow of the row of great trees bordering what had once been a lawn.  Two figures had just come out upon the porch; he recognized them, even at this distance, as the Chases.  At the moment, nobody else occupied the porch.  Neil and Dorothy stood for a moment under the lanterns, looking back into the hall, then turned and descended the steps.  They surveyed the house as they did so; they backed farther away from it; they strolled round to the west side, and viewed it from that point.  Finally, as Max halted beside a tree-trunk, watching them, they began to walk slowly down the driveway, turning from time to time to gaze back at the house-front.

As they passed Max, catching no hint of his presence in the shadow, they conversed in phrases which were of interest to him, and to which, since they intimately concerned himself, he might be excused for listening.

“It’s simply stunning,” Dorothy was saying eagerly, as they passed.  “I’d rather have it than forty new houses.  When it’s restored it will have such an air!  I don’t suppose they appreciate it at all, do they?  Oh, do get hold of it before anybody tells them!”