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Richmond, Grace S. (Grace Smith), 1866-1959

"The Second Violin"

"I wouldn't give a picayune to own one of those castles,
back there. But down here I'm going to show you my ideal of comfort."
Fred turned in at a gateway and drove on through orchards and grove to a
house behind the trees on the river bank.
"Doesn't that look like home?" exclaimed the doctor, as they alighted.
"Well, it is home! I bought it yesterday, just as it stands. Nothing
fine about it, outside or in. I wanted it to run away to when I'm tired.
I'm not going to tell anybody about it except---"
"Except every one he meets," Fred said, gaily, to Celia, leading her
toward the wide porch overlooking the river, about which the May vines
were beginning to cluster profusely. "He can't keep it a secret. I may
as well warn you he's going to invite you and the whole family out here
for a fortnight in June. So if you don't want to come you have a chance
to be thinking up a reasonable excuse."
"As if we could want one! What a charming plan for us! Does he really
mean to include all of us?"
"Every one, under both roofs. I assure you it's a jolly plan for us, and
I'm holding my breath till I know you'll come.


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