There's the Reeds and Maxwells and Robertsons that are too pooah to keep blood horses, and too proud to ride behind anything else.

It wouldn't be the right thing for us to go whirling by, scattering our dust over them." There was something so subtly pleasant in this implied partnership of responsibility, that Courtland forgot the abrupt refusal and thought only of the tact that prompted it.
Nevertheless, here a spell seemed to fall upon his usually ready speech.
Now that they were together for the first time in a distinctly social fashion, he found himself vacantly, meaninglessly silent, content to walk beside this charming, summery presence, brushed by its delicate draperies, and inhaling its freshness.

Presently it spoke.
"It would take more than a thousand feet of lumber to patch up the cowsheds beyond the Moseley pasture, and an entirely new building with an improved dairy would require only about two thousand more.

All the old material would come in good for fencing, and could be used with the new post and rails.

Don't yo' think it would be better to have an out-and-out new building ?" "Yes, certainly," returned Courtland a little confusedly.