ds told Norman, felt like a
squeezed orange. The friendliest man to him was Mr. Yorke, whom Keith
found to be a jovial, sensible little man with kindly blue eyes and a
humorous mouth. His chief cross-examiner was a Mr. Kestrel, a
narrow-faced, parchment-skinned man with a thin white moustache that
looked as if it had led a starved existence on his bloodless lip.

"Those people down there are opposed to progress," he said, buttoning up
his pockets in a way he had, as if he were afraid of having them picked.
"I guess the Wickershams have found that out. I don't see any money
in it."

"It is strange that Kestrel doesn't see money in this," said Mr. Yorke,
with a twinkle in his eye; "for he usually sees money in everything. I
guess there were other reasons than want of progress for the Wickershams
not paying dividends."

A few days later Norman informed Keith that the money was nearly all
subscribed; but Keith did not know until afterwards how warmly he had
indorsed him.

"You said something about sheep the other day; well, a sheep is a
solitary and unsocial animal to a city-man with money to invest. My
grandfather's man used to tell me: 'Sheep is kind of gregarious, Mr.
Norman. Coax the first one through and you can't keep the others out.'
Even Kestrel is jumping to get in."

CHAPTER XVIII

MRS. LANCASTER

Keith had not yet met Mrs. Lancaster. He meant to call on her before
leaving town; for he would show her that he was successful, and also
that he had recovered. Also he wanted to see her, and in his heart was a
lurking hope that she might regret having lost him. A word that Mrs.
Wentworth had let fall the first evening he dined there had kept him
from calling before.

A few evenings later Keith was dining with the Norman Wentworths, and
after dinner Norman said:

"By the way, we are going to a ball to-night. Won't you come along? It
will really be worth seeing."

Keith, having no engagement, was about to accept, but he was aware that
Mrs. Wentworth, at her husband's words, had turned and given him a quick
look of scrutiny, that swept him from the top of his head to the toe
of his boot.

He had had that swift glance of inspection sweep him up and down many
times of late, in business offices. The look, however, appeared to
satisfy his hostess; for after a bare pause she seconded her husband's
invitation.

That pause had given Keith time to reflect, and he declined to go. But
Norman, too, had seen the