Faery's head was turned at last from the wide, dusty street into an imposing gateway, which lead through an avenue bordered thickly with evergreens mostly pine and hemlock. "These trees look a trifle hot in summer; but they are a capital protection in a winter's storm, I assure you," my companion said with an apologetic air.
I could think of no suitable reply; so merely said, "yes."
"It's a tradition among their acquaintances that the Winthrops believe in getting the very best possible good out of everything."
"Have they succeeded?"
"Better than the generality of folks; but they have come pretty near extinction, at least on this side the water. Mr. Winthrop is the last of his race."
"Has he no children?"
"He is a bachelor."
"But he may have children and a wife some day."
"You will probably be his heir, if he does not marry, I believe he is your heir by your father's will, in case you die without heirs."
I laughed merrily. "He wi