ew tenant descended upon the village. She came in a
maroon-and-black limousine with a smart-looking chauffeur, a French
maid, a French poodle and what all of the up-to-date ladies in
Tinkletown unhesitatingly described as a French gown a la mode.

Miss Angie Nixon, who had never been nearer to Paris than Brattleboro,
Vermont, said to her customers that from what she had seen of the new
tenant's outfit, she was undoubtedly from the Tooleries. Miss Angie was
the leading dressmaker of Tinkletown. If she had said the lady was from
Somaliland, the statement would have gone unchallenged.

The same day, a man cook and a "hired girl" arrived from Boggs City,
having come up by rail from New York.

The tenant was a tall, slender lady. There could be no division of
opinion as to that. As to whether she was young, middle-aged or only
well-preserved, no one was in a position to asseverate. As a matter of
fact, observers would have been justified in wondering whether she was
black or white. She was never abroad without the thick, voluminous veil,
and her hands were never ungloved. Mrs. Nixon and Angie described her
voice as refined and elegant, and she spoke English as well as anybody,
not excepting Professor Rank of the high school.

By the end of her first week in the Nixon cottage, there wasn't a person
in Tinkletown, exclusive of small babies, who had not advanced a theory
concerning Mrs. Smith, the new tenant. On one point all agreed; she was
the most "stuck-up" person ever seen in Tinkletown.

She resolutely avoided all contact with her neighbours. On several
occasions, polite and cordial citizens had bowed and mumbled "Howdy-do"
to her as she passed in the automobile, but there is no record of a
single instance in which she paid the slightest heed to these
civilities. All of her marketing was done by the man cook, and while he
was able to speak English quite fluently when objecting to the quality,
the quantity and the price of everything, he was singularly unable to
carry on a conversation in that language when invited to do so by
friendly clerks or proprietors.

As for the French chauffeur, his knowledge of English appeared to be
limited to an explosive sort of profanity. Lum Gillespie declared on the
third day after Mrs. Smith's car first came to his garage for live
storage, that "that feller Francose" knew more English cuss-words than
all the Irishmen in the world.

The veiled lady did a good many surprising things.