ad said a great deal about the newcomer, and had declared
that whatever alterations had gone on in his mind, soul, and character,
he certainly had improved in appearance, and was a very good-looking
young man, with becoming clothes. In one way, however, he had not
changed, for in a surprisingly short time he had made friends with
everybody on the place. He talked to Mr. Lodloe as if he had been an old
chum; he had renewed his acquaintance with Mrs. Cristie, and was very
gallant to her; he was hand-in-glove with Mr. Tippengray, both of them
laughing together and making jokes as if they had always known each
other; and, more than that, it wasn't an hour after breakfast when he
and Mrs. Cristie's nurse-maid were sitting on a bench under the trees,
reading out of the same book, while Mr. Tippengray was pushing the
baby-carriage up and down on the grass, and Mrs. Cristie and Mr. Lodloe
were putting up the lawn-tennis net.

"I could see for myself," Mrs. Petter had remarked at this point, "that
you were right in saying that there was no use in my talking about the
boarders associating with servants, for when they made up the
lawn-tennis game it turned out that Mr. Tippengray didn't play, and so
that girl Ida had to take a hand while he kept on neglecting his Greek
for the baby."

At last Miss Calthea let her sewing drop into her lap, and sat looking
at an empty shelf opposite to her.

"Yes," she said to herself, her lips moving, although no sound was
audible, "the first thing to do is to get Lanigan away. As long as he is
here I might as well not lift a finger, and it looks as if that
impertinent minx of a child's nurse would be my best help. If he doesn't
have one of his changeable fits, he will be ready in three days to
follow her anywhere, but I must look sharp, for at this very minute he
may be making love to the widow. Of course he hasn't any chance with
her, but it would be just like Lanigan to go in strongest where he knew
he hadn't any chance. However, I shall see for myself how matters stand,
and one thing is certain--Lanigan has got to go."

About this time Mr. Lanigan Beam, finding himself with a solitary
quarter of an hour on his hands, was reflecting on a bench upon the lawn
of the Squirrel Inn. "Yes," he thought, "it is a great plan. It will
elevate the social tone of Lethbury, it will purify the moral atmosphere
of the surrounding country, and, above all, it will make it possible for
me to live here. It wil