not be discovered, one is
supplied--usually mean and little, the latter unctuously preferred.

All this Croyden was yet to learn, however.

He took the night's express on the N. Y., P. & N., whence, at Hampton
Junction, he transferred to a branch line. For twenty miles the train
seemed to crawl along, burrowing into the sand hills and out again into
sand, and in and out again, until, at length, with much whistling and
escaping steam, they wheezed into the station and stopped.

There were a dozen white men, with slouch hats and nondescript
clothing, standing aimlessly around, a few score of negroes, and a
couple of antique carriages with horses to match. The white men looked
at the new arrival, listlessly, and the negroes with no interest at
all--save the two who were porters for the rival hotels. They both made
for Croyden and endeavored to take his grip.

He waved them away.

"I don't want your hotel, boys," he said. "But if you can tell me where
Clarendon is, I will be obliged."

"Cla'endon! seh? yass, seh," said one, "right out at de een' o' de
village, seh--dis street tek's yo dyar, seh, sho nuf."

"Which end of the village?" Croyden asked.

"Dis een', seh, de fust house beyon' Majah Bo'den's, seh."

"How many blocks is it?"

"Blocks, seh!" said the negro. "'Tain't no blocks--it's jest de fust
place beyon' Majah Bo'den's."

Croyden laughed. "Here," he said, "you take my bag out to
Clarendon--I'll walk till I find it."

"Yass, seh! yass, seh! I'll do it, seh! but yo bettah ride, seh!"

"No!" said Croyden, looking at the vehicle. "It's safer to walk."

He tossed the negro a quarter and turned away.

"Thankee, seh, thankee, seh, I'll brings it right out, seh."

Croyden went slowly down the street, while the crowd stared after him,
and the shops emptied their loafers to join them in the staring. He was
a strange man--and a well-dressed man--and they all were curious.

Presently, the shops were replaced by dwellings of the humbler sort,
then they, in turn, by more pretentious residences--with here and there
a new one of the Queen Anne type. Croyden did not need the information,
later vouchsafed, that they belong to _new_ people. It was as
unmistakable as the houses themselves.

About a mile from the station, he passed a place built of English
brick, covered on the sides by vines, and shaded by huge trees. It
stood well back from the street and had about it an air of aristocracy
and exclusiveness.