nd
at Miss Waring's! Bassett, ignoring the vivacious colloquy between his
daughter and Allen, continued to exchange commonplaces with Thatcher and
Pettit. Marian's ease of manner amused Harwood; Allen was bending over
her in his eager way; there was no question but that he admired her
tremendously. The situation was greatly to her liking, and she was
making the most of it. It was in her eye that she knew how to manage
men. Seeing that Mr. Thatcher was edging away, she played upon him to
delay his escape.

"I wish you would come up to Waupegan this summer, Mr. Thatcher. You and
father are such friends, and we should all be so glad to have you for a
neighbor. There are always houses to be rented, you know."

"Stranger things have happened than that, Miss Marian," replied
Thatcher, eying her boldly and quite satisfied with her appearance. "My
women folks want Allen and me to come across for the summer; but we like
this side of the big water. Little Old United States--nothing touches
it! Allen and I may take a run up into Canada sometime when it gets red
hot."

"Reminds me--speaking of the heat--back in the Hancock campaign--"
Pettit was beginning, but Thatcher was leaving and the editor and Allen
followed perforce. In a moment they heard Thatcher's voice peremptorily
demanding his motor from the steps of the entrance.

"Pettit's lecture dates must be multiplying," observed Dan carelessly.

"They seem to be," Bassett replied, indifferently.

"I can find out easily enough whether he lectured at Churubusco last
night or not, or is going to invade Brazil to-morrow," Dan suggested.

"Easy, but unnecessary. I think I know what's in your mind," Bassett
answered, as Marian, interested in the passing show, turned away, "but
it isn't of the slightest importance one way or another."

"That was Miss Bosworth," announced Marian--"the one in the white
flannel coat; she's certainly grand to look at."

"Please keep your eyes to the front," Bassett admonished; "you mustn't
stare at people, Marian." And then, having dismissed Pettit, and feeling
called upon to bring his daughter into the conversation, he said:
"Marian, you remember the Miss Garrison your aunt is so fond of? Her
grandfather died the other day and Miss Garrison had to come home. Your
Aunt Sally is in Montgomery with her now. Mr. Harwood went to the
funeral."

"That's too bad," said Marian, at once interested. "Sylvia's a mighty
nice girl, and I guess her grandfath