"It's an ugly old thing," he said.
"No, it isn't," she contradicted. "It's simple and big and kind. I
always used to feel it disapproved of me. I believe it has come to love
me, in its solemn old brick way."
"It was built by Kent in seventeen-forty for your great-great
grandfather," he explained. He was regarding it more affectionately.
"Solid respectability was the dream, then."
"I think that's why I love it," she said: "for it's dear, old-fashioned
ways. We will teach it the new dreams, too. It will be so shocked, at
first."
They dined in state in the great dining-room.
"I was going to buy you a present," he grumbled. "But you wouldn't let
me get up."
"I want to give you something quite expensive, Dad," she said. "I've had
my eye on it for years."
She slipped her hand in his. "I want you to give me that Dream of yours;
that you built for my mother, and that all went wrong. They call it
Allway's Folly; and it makes me so mad. I want to make it all come true.
May I try?"
* * * * *
It was there that he came to her.
She stood beneath the withered trees, beside the shattered fountain.
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