bowered
in flowers.

Hephzy's romantic spirit objected strongly to "Leatherhead," but I told
her nothing could be more appropriate.

"This whole proposition--Beg pardon; I didn't mean to use that word;
we've heard enough concerning 'propositions'--but really, Hephzy,
'Leatherhead' is very appropriate for us. If we weren't leather-headed
and deserving of leather medals we should not be hunting houses at all.
We should have left Little Frank and her affairs in a lawyer's hands and
be enjoying ourselves as we intended. Leatherhead for the leather-heads;
it's another dispensation of Providence."

"Ash Dump"--"Clump," I mean--was owned by a person named Cripps, Solomon
Cripps. Mr. Cripps was a stout, mutton-chopped individual, strongly
suggestive of Bancroft's "Henry." He was rather pompous and surly when I
first knocked at the door of his residence, but when he learned we were
house-hunting and had our eyes upon the "Clump," he became very
polite indeed. "A 'eavenly spot," he declared it to be. "A beautiful
neighborhood. Near the shops and not far from the Primitive Wesleyan
chapel." He and Mrs. Cripps attended the chapel, he informed us.

I did not fancy Mr. Cripps; he was too--too something, I was not sure
what. And Mrs. Cripps, whom we met later, was of a similar type. They,
like everyone else, recognized us as Americans at once and they spoke
highly of the "States."

"A very fine country, I am informed," said Mr. Cripps. "New, of course,
but very fine indeed. Young men make money there. Much money--yes."

Mrs. Cripps wished to know if Americans were a religious people, as a
rule. Religion, true spiritual religion was on the wane in England.

I gathered that she and her husband were doing their best to keep it up
to the standard. I had read, in books by English writers, of the British
middle-class Pharisee. I judged the Crippses to be Pharisees.

Hephzy's opinion was like mine.

"If ever there was a sanctimonious hypocrite it's that Mrs. Cripps," she
declared. "And her husband ain't any better. They remind me of Deacon
Hardy and his wife back home. He always passed the plate in church and
she was head of the sewin' circle, but when it came to lettin' go of
an extry cent for the minister's salary they had glue on their fingers.
Father used to say that the Deacon passed the plate himself so nobody
could see how little he put in it. They were the ones that always
brought a stick of salt herrin' to the donation pa