berry-coloured brick, had been the pride and glory of the Kingsbury
of the '70s: there were many churches, some graceful and some hideous. At
the end of the street they came upon a common, surrounded by stone posts
and a railing, with a monument in the middle of it, and facing the common
on the north side was a rambling edifice with many white gables, in front
of which, from an iron arm on a post, swung a quaint sign, "Kingsbury
Tavern." In revolutionary and coaching days the place bad been a famous
inn; and now, thanks to the enterprise of a man who had foreseen the
possibilities of an era of automobiles, it had become even more famous. A
score of these modern vehicles were drawn up before it under the bare,
ancient elms; there was a scene of animation on the long porch, where
guests strolled up and down or sat in groups in the rocking-chairs which
the mild weather had brought forth again. Ditmar drew up in line with the
other motors, and stopped.

"Well, here we are!" he exclaimed, as he pulled off his gauntlets. "I
guess I could get along with something to eat. How about you? They treat
you as well here as any place I know of in New England."

He assumed their lunching together at a public place as a matter of
course to which there could not possibly be an objection, springing out
of the car, removing the laprobe from her knees, and helping her to
alight. She laid the roses on the seat.

"Aren't you going to bring them along?" he demanded.

"I'd rather not," she said. "Don't you think they'll be safe here?"

"Oh, I guess so," he replied. She was always surprising him; but her
solicitation concerning them was a balm, and he found all such
instinctive acts refreshing.

"Afraid of putting up too much of a front, are you?" he asked smilingly.

"I'd rather leave them here," she replied. As she walked beside Ditmar to
the door she was excited, unwontedly self-conscious, painfully aware of
inspection by the groups on the porch. She had seen such people as these
hurrying in automobiles through the ugliness of Faber Street in Hampton
toward just such delectable spots as this village of Kingsbury--people
of that world of freedom and privilege from which she was excluded;
Ditmar's world. He was at home here. But she? The delusion that she
somehow had been miraculously snatched up into it was marred by their
glances. What were they thinking of her? Her face was hot as she passed
them and entered the hall, where more people