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Robert went out into the office, where he sigued his name under the close and silent scrutiny of a half dozen roughly clad men, who sat leaning against the wall. They were merely workingmen to him, but in Mrs. Bloom’s eyes they were dangerous people.

The landlord looked at the name as Robert wrote. "Your boxes are all here," he said.

Robert looked up at him in surprise. "What boxes?"

"Your household goods. They came in on No. 9. "

Robert recovered himself. He remembered this was a village where everything that goes on–everything–is known.

The stairway rose picturesquely out of the office to the low second story, and wp these stairs they tramped to’ their tiny rooms, which were like cells.

"Oh, Mamma, ain’t it queer?" cried the boys.

"Supper is all ready," the landlord’s soft, deep voice aunounced a few moments later, and the boys responded with whoops of hunger.

They were met by the close scrutiny of every boarder as they entered, and they heard also the muttered cornments and explanations.

"Family to take the Merrill house. "

"He looks purty well fiaxed out, don’t he?"

They were agreeably surprised to find everything neat and clean and wholesome. The bread was good and the butter delicious. Their spirits revived.

"That butter tastes like old times," said Robert. "li’s fresh. It’s really butter. "

They made a hearty meal, and the boys, being filled up, grew sleepy. After they were put to bed Robert said, "Now, Mate, let’s go see the house. "

They walked out arm in arm like lovers. Her sturdy form steadied him, though he would not have acknowledged it. The red flush was not yet gone from the west, and the hills still kept a splendid tone of purple-black. It was very clear, the stars were out, the wind deliciously soft. "Isn’t it still?" Robert aimost whispered.

They walked on under the budding trees up the hill, till they came at last to the small frame house set under tall maples and locust trees, just showing a feathery fringe of foliage.

"This is our home," said Robert.

Mate leaned on the gate in silence. Frogs were peeping. The smell of spring was in the air. There was a magnificent repose in the hour, restful, recreating, impressive.

"Oh, it’s beautiful, Robert! I know we shall like it. "

"We must like it," he said.

II

First contact with the people disappointed Robert. In the work of moving in he had to do with people who work at day’s work, and the fault was his more than theirs. He forgot that they did not consider their work degrading. They resented his bossing. The drayman grew rebellious.

"Look a-here, my Christian friend, if you’ll go ‘long in the house and let us alone it’ll be a good job. We know what we’re about. "

This was not pleasant, and he did not perceive the trouble. In the same way he got foul of the carpenter and the man who plowed his garden. Some way his tone was not right. His voice was cold and distant. He generally found that the men knew better than he what was to be done and how to do it; and sometimes he felt like apologizing, but their attitude had changed till apology was impossible.

He had repelled their friendly advances because he considered them (without meaning to do so) as workmen, and not as neighbors. They reported, therefore, that he was cranky and rode a high horse.

"He thinks he’s a little tin god on wheels," the drayman said.

"Oh, he’ll get over that," said McLane. "I knew the boy’s folks years ago–tip-top folks, too. He ain’t well, and that makes him a little crusty. "