She meant it as a facer for this Sawney, who had declared to her that Uncle Si could neither think wrong nor ensue it. A hit, shrewd and fair, but the Sawney was still in business.
"In a manner of speaking, it may be so. But I am sure the master will tell you there are things money can't buy."
"What are they?" June's frown was the fiercer for the effort to repress it.
"Take this glint of sun striking through that wonderful cloud. All the money in the world couldn't buy that."
"Of course it could. And I don't suppose it would take much to buy it either."
He solemnly dissented. She asked why not.
"Because," said he, "that bit of sunlight only exists in the eye that sees it."
"That's sentiment," said June severely. "You might say the same of anything."
"You might, of course. Nothing is, but thinking makes it so."
Again June heard the queer little tremble in his voice, again she saw that strange look steal across his face.
"What you say sounds very deep, but if you talk in that way I'm quite sure you'll never get on in the world."
"I'll be quite happy to live as I am, if only I'm allowed to see the wonderful things that are in it."
June had a fierce desire to shake him, but he beamed upon her, and she became a lamb.
"On Saturday," he said, "when we go to our little treasure house, you will see what I mean."
