ringlets and pantalettes, the Revloutionary[sic] War still well
remembered, and the last George on the throne. And now the house
was cold and dead, and strange little boys, in sandals and sturdy
galatea, were shouting in the stable.

Perhaps she was drowsy herself; she started awake, and touched
Bert. An old man and a young man had come in the opened gate, and
were speaking to her.

"I beg your pardon!" It was the young man. "But--but do you own
this place?"

"No--just picnicking!" said Bert, wide awake.

"But it is for sale?" asked the old man. Bert got up, and brushed
the leaves from his clothes, and the three men walked down the
drive together. Nancy, half-comprehending, all-hoping looked after
them. She saw Bert give the young man his card, and glance at the
same time at the faded sign, as if he appealed to it to confirm
his claim.

She hardly dared speak when he came back. Anne awoke, and the boys
must be summoned for the home trip. Bert moved dreamily, he seemed
dazed. Only once did he speak of the Witcher Place that night, and
then it was to say:

"Perry--that's that old chap's name--said that he would be in this
week, at the office. I'll bet he doesn't come."

"No, I don't suppose he will," Nancy said.