Throughout the recital Billy's eyes were moody with
dissatisfaction. Mrs. Mortimer saw, and waited.
"And now, begin at the beginning," Saxon begged.
But Mrs. Mortimer refused unless they agreed to stop for supper.
Saxon frowned Billy's reluctance away, and accepted for both of
them.
"Well, then," Mrs. Mortimer took up her tale, "in the beginning I
was a greenhorn, city born and bred. All I knew of the country
was that it was a place to go to for vacations, and I always went
to springs and mountain and seaside resorts. I had lived among
books almost all my life. I was head librarian of the Doncaster
Library for years. Then I married Mr. Mortimer. He was a book
man, a professor in San Miguel University. He had a long
sickness, and when he died there was nothing left. Even his life
insurance was eaten into before I could be free of creditors. As
for myself, I was worn out, on the verge of nervous prostration,
fit for nothing. I had five thousand dollars left, however, and,
without going into the details, I decided to go farming. I found
this place, in a delightful climate, close to San Jose--the end
of the electric line is only a quarter of a mile on--and I bought
it. I paid two thousand cash, and gave a mortgage for two
thousand. It cost two hundred an acre, you see."
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