ife
which gave her intellectual poise. She was not particularly inquisitive
about anything in connection with him, and so far as he could see from
surface indications was refined, silent, conservative. She could jest,
and did, in a subtle understanding way. He told her quite frankly at the
time he applied that he was married, that his wife was in the West and
that he expected her to return after his health was somewhat improved.
She talked with him about art and books and life in general. Music
appeared to be to her a thing apart. She did not care much for it. The
nephew, Davis Simpson, was neither literary nor artistic, and apparently
cared little for music. He was a buyer for one of the larger department
stores, a slight, dapper, rather dandified type of man, with a lean, not
thin but tight-muscled face, and a short black mustache, and he appeared
to be interested only in the humors of character, trade, baseball and
methods of entertaining himself. The things that pleased Eugene about
him were that he was clean, simple, direct, good-natured and courteous.
He had apparently no desire to infringe on anybody's privacy, but was
fond of stirring up light discussions and interpolating witty remarks.
He liked also to grow flowers and to fish. The care of a border of
flowers which glorified a short gravel path in the back yard received
his especial attention evenings and mornings.

It was a great pleasure for Eugene to come into this atmosphere after
the storm which had been assailing him for the past three years, and
particularly for the past ninety days. He was only asked to pay eight
dollars a week by Mrs. Hibberdell, though he realized that what he was
obtaining in home atmosphere here was not ordinarily purchasable at any
price in the public market. The maid saw to it that a little bouquet of
flowers was put on his dressing table daily. He was given fresh towels
and linen in ample quantities. The bath was his own. He could sit out on
the porch of an evening and look at the water uninterrupted or he could
stay in the library and read. Breakfast and dinner were invariably
delightful occasions, for though he rose at five-forty-five in order to
have his bath, breakfast, and be able to walk to the factory and reach
it by seven, Mrs. Hibberdell was invariably up, as it was her habit to
rise thus early, had been so for years. She liked it. Eugene in his
weary mood could scarcely understand this. Davis came to the table some
few