"Half a million dollars for six acres," he added.

"The man must be crazy." Miss Rebecca stepped to the honeysuckle vine
with a detached air and snipped off a straggling tendril with her
shears. "That is a large sum of money," she added.

David Walker enjoyed the effect of his announcement; it was clear that
he had produced an impression.

"Money is no object to him. I told him that you did not wish to sell,
and he said that he would make it worth your while."

"Half a million dollars! We should be nearly rich," let fall Miss
Carry, upon whom the full import of the offer was breaking.

"Yes; and think what good you two ladies could do with all that
money--practical good," continued the broker, pressing his opportunity
and availing himself of his knowledge of their aspirations. "You could
buy elsewhere and have enough left over to endow a professorship at
Bryn Mawr, Miss Rebecca; and you, Miss Carry, would be able to revel
in charitable donations."

Those who knew the Ripley sisters well were aware that plain speaking
never vexed them. Beating about the bush from artificiality or
ignoring a plain issue was the sort of thing they resented.
Consequently, the directness of David Walker's sally did not appear to
them a liberty, but merely a legitimate summing up of the situation.
Miss Rebecca was the spokesman as usual, though her choice was always
governed by what she conceived to be the welfare of her sister, whom
she still looked on as almost a very young person. Sitting upright and