key food he didn't have in the house, and I
don't see why he hadn't provided a supply of that."

"Perhaps he didn't know you were comin'," observed Hephzy, cheerfully.
"Won't you have another cup, Mrs. Bayliss? Or a cooky or somethin'?"

The doctor's wife consented to the refilling of her cup.

"I suppose--what do you call them?--cereals, are an American custom,"
she said, evidently aware that her hostess's feelings were ruffled.
"Every country has its customs, so travelers say. Even our own has some,
doubtless, though I can't recall any at the moment."

Heathcroft stroked his mustache.

"Oh," he drawled, "we have some, possibly; but our breakfasts are not as
queer as the American breakfasts. You mustn't mind my fun, Miss Cahoon,
I hope you're not offended."

"Not a bit," was the calm reply. "We humans ARE animals, after all, I
suppose, and some like one kind of food and some another. Donkeys like
hay and pigs like sweets, and I don't know as I hadn't just as soon live
in a stable as a sty. Do help yourself to the cake, Mr. Heathcroft."

No, our aristocratic acquaintance did not, as a general rule, come out
ahead in these little encounters and I more than once was obliged to
suppress a chuckle at my plucky relative's spirited retorts. Frances,
too, seemed to appreciate and enjoy the Yankee victories. Her prejudice
against America had, so far as outward expression went, almost
disappeared. She was more likely to champion than criticize our ways and
habits now.

But, in spite of all this, she seemed to enjoy the Heathcroft society.
The two were together a great deal. The village people noticed the
intimacy and comments reached my ears which were not intended for them.
Hephzy and I had some discussions on the subject.

"You don't suppose he means anything serious, do you, Hosy?" she asked.
"Or that she thinks he does?"

"I don't know," I answered. I didn't like the idea any better than she
did.

"I hope not. Of course he's a big man around here. When his aunt dies
he'll come in for the estate and the money, so everybody says. And
if Frances should marry him she'd be--I don't know whether she'd be a
'Lady' or not, but she'd have an awful high place in society."

"I suppose she would. But I hope she won't do it."

"So do I, for poor young Doctor Bayliss's sake, if nothin' else. He's so
good and so patient with it all. And he's just eaten up with jealousy;
anybody can see that. I'm scared to death that he and t