tentive
student of the continuing human comedy he speculated cheerfully as to
the length and violence of the impending storm. Kirkwood had never
participated in these Christmas morning visits, and Phil usually
dropped in after her aunts had departed. It seemed easier to let Fate
take charge of the disclosure.

A door slammed in the upper hall, and Amzi heard the colored woman
descending the back stairs. Lois was having her breakfast in her room,
an unprecedented circumstance in the domestic economy. Then Jeremiah was
summoned to distribute the much-belabeled trunks. Amzi's sensations
during these unwonted excitements were, on the whole, not disagreeable.
The invasion of his bachelor privacy was too complete for any minute
analysis of what he liked or didn't like. It was a good deal of a
joke,--this breakfasting in bed, this command of the resources of his
establishment to scatter trunks about. As he crossed the hall he was
arrested by a cheerful "Merry Christmas."

Lois, in a pink kimona, smilingly waved her hand from the top step where
she sat composedly watching him.

"Merry Christmas!" he called back.

"Here's a present for you,--got it in Paris, special. If you don't like
it, I'll trade you another for it. Catch!"

She tossed him a box containing a scarfpin, and she nursed her knees,
humming to herself and clicking her slipper heels while he examined it.
She interrupted his stammered thanks to ask whether any of the "folks"
had been in yet.

She had dressed her hair in the prevailing pompadour fashion, which was
highly becoming; and the kimona imparted to her face a soft rose color.
She was a pretty rose of a woman, and he leaned against the newel and
regarded her with appreciation.

"I slept like a top; it's as still as the woods around here. I suppose
Montgomery's never going to grow much; and it's just as well. What's
property worth a front foot on Main Street,--oh, say within a couple of
blocks of the court-house?"

"About five hundred dollars, I guess."

She lifted her head as though thinking deeply.

"Real estate's the only thing, if you get into it right. You were never
much on speculation, were you, Amzi? Well, you were wise to keep out of
it. It takes imagination--" She brushed the subject away gracefully.
"You still own a farm or two?"

"Yes."

"I always thought I'd like to go in for farming sometime. I've looked
into the fruit business out West and there must be a lot of cheap land
in Ind