Some of these trees had a girth that half a dozen
men with their arms outstretched in a circle could not span;
they were green in spite of the winter; branching low, and
spreading into stately, beautiful heads of verdure, while grey
wreaths of moss hung drooping from some of them. The house was
seen not very distinctly among these trees; it showed low, and
in a long extent of building. I have never seen a prettier
approach to a house than that at Magnolia. My heart was full
of the beauty, this first time.
"This is Magnolia, Daisy," said my aunt. "This is your house."
"It appears a fine place," said Miss Pinshon.
"It is one of the finest on the river. This is your property,
Daisy."
"It is papa's," I answered.
"Well, — it belongs to your mother, and so you may say it
belongs to your father; but it is yours for all that. The
arrangement was, as I know," my aunt went on, addressing Miss
Pinshon, — "the arrangement in the marriage settlements was,
that the sons should have the father's property, and the
daughters the mother's.
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