to be thought of more highly.

"I see," said Dwight, respectfully dwelling on the verb.

Later on Cornish confided more to Dwight: He was to come by a little
inheritance some day--not much, but something. Yes, it made a man feel a
certain confidence....

"_Don't_ it?" said Dwight heartily, as if he knew.

Every one liked Cornish. He told funny stories, and he never compared
Warbleton save to its advantage. So at last Dwight said tentatively at
lunch:

"What if I brought that Neil Cornish up for supper, one of these
nights?"

"Oh, Dwightie, do," said Ina. "If there's a man in town, let's know it."

"What if I brought him up to-night?"

Up went Ina's eyebrows. _To-night_?

"'Scalloped potatoes and meat loaf and sauce and bread and butter,"
Lulu contributed.

Cornish came to supper. He was what is known in Warbleton as dapper.
This Ina saw as she emerged on the veranda in response to Dwight's
informal halloo on his way upstairs. She herself was in white muslin,
now much too snug, and a blue ribbon. To her greeting their guest
replied in that engaging shyness which is not awkwardness. He moved in
some pleasant web of gentleness and friendliness.

They asked him the usual questions, and he replied, rocking all the time
with a faint undulating motion of head and shoulders: Warbleton was one
of the prettiest little towns that he had ever seen. He liked the
people--they seemed different. He was sure to like the place, already
liked it. Lulu came to the door in Ninian's thin black-and-white gown.
She shook hands with the stranger, not looking at him, and said, "Come
to supper, all." Monona was already in her place, singing under-breath.
Mrs. Bett, after hovering in the kitchen door, entered; but they forgot
to introduce her.

"Where's Di?" asked Ina. "I declare that daughter of mine is never
anywhere."

A brief silence ensued as they were seated. There being a guest, grace
was to come, and Dwight said unintelligibly and like lightning a generic
appeal to bless this food, forgive all our sins and finally save us. And
there was something tremendous, in this ancient form whereby all stages
of men bow in some now unrecognized recognition of the ceremonial of
taking food to nourish life--and more.

At "Amen" Di flashed in, her offices at the mirror fresh upon
her--perfect hair, silk dress turned up at the hem. She met Cornish,
crimsoned, fluttered to her seat, joggled the table and, "Oh, dear," she
said audibly to