for wheat there is enough for so much bread you need never sink to the level of eating cake."
He laughed good-naturedly at his own feeble wit but Mary did not mind. She gazed at the place wistfully. This house represented peace and rest.
Momentarily she was in a romantic mood, a sentimentalist. But it was an alien state to her. Mary usually wanted change, glamour, noise, excitement. She had been happy on her father's farm and there she had not longed for the rush and bustle of the city, for the simple reason that she had never known city life. Now it was changed. She had been caught in the whirl of pleasure, of night-life and bartered love. There was no going back to farm standards and being satisfied. She was fooling herself without being cognizant of it.
The interior of the house was roomy and spacious. The furniture was old-fashioned but the chairs were comfortable. The fireplace was a marvelous affair and she wished it were winter or at least autumn so that she could sit and warm herself in a fire's friendly glow. She sighed as she realized that she must wait. This was August. No fire could be friendly in such heat. Yekial Meigs was all excited.
"I want you to see the upstairs rooms," he said. "I think you'll find them fairly comfortable."
He led the way up a broad staircase to the floor above. The house was only two stories high and the ceiling of the upper floor was low. But the windows were large and they looked out upert a broad sweep of country so flat that there was an enor möus amount of sky in view. Although the building was not high it gave the feeling of height because everything else was so level.
In the centre of the room was a huge bed of dark mahogany.
"It belonged to my grandmother," Yekial said, "and is still sturdy and strong."
"It's big enough to give a party in," said Mary.
"Perhaps grandma did at times," he said drolly, "she had the reputation of being a very gallant lady. She was married three times and had fourteen children."
"And were they all born in that bed?"
43
