n
the awful four hours which followed my solemn promise to Alice not to
reveal the blissful tidings that we had bought the old Schmittheimer
place! I felt as if I had committed a crime; I was as a haunted man
must be. I dared not look my neighbors in the face lest they should
read the sweet truth in my honest eyes.

Finally I broke completely down, for I could not stand it any longer.
I actually believe that if I had kept silent another hour the dreadful
consciousness of guilt would have swelled within me to such a bulk as
to have burst me into fragments, which would now be travelling around
aimlessly in space, like the lost Pleiad, or like the dismembered and
stray tail of a comet. So I called my next neighbor, Rush, out behind
his barn, and, under oath of secrecy, revealed the good news to him,
and then I did likewise by neighbor Tiltman, and so on, in seemly
progression, by all the other neighbors, until at last my confidence
had been securely reposed in every one.

I cannot tell you what sweet relief I found in this proceeding. To my
killing consciousness of guilt succeeded a peace which passeth all
human understanding. There was a world of satisfaction, too, in being
assured by each of those dear neighbors that we (Alice and I) had got
the greatest bargain ever heard of, that we were the luckiest couple on
earth, that the old Schmittheimer place was just exactly what we
wanted, that the property would enhance double in value in less than a
year, etc., etc., etc. Oh, it is good to have such neighbors as ours
are!

The Denslows were quite as glad as the others were to hear of our
bargain. Mrs. Denslow (bless her kind heart) began at once to picture
the veritable paradise into which it were possible to transform the
front lawn. In the exuberance of her fancy she portrayed winding
gravel walks among rose bushes and beds of gay flowers; rustic bowers
over which honeysuckle and ivy clambered; picturesque miniature Swiss
cottages in the trees for birds to nest in; an artificial lake well
stocked with goldfishes, and upon whose tranquil bosom a swan or two
would glide majestically through the mist of the fountain that
perennially would shower down its tinkling grace.

It was very pleasing to hear Mrs. Denslow and Alice talk about these
things with that enthusiasm peculiar to their sex. Until "our house"
became a probability I did not really know with what rapidity it were
possible for women-folk to discuss an