her to the village, where I was
duly turned over to old Pettigrew. And then, as the day was by no
means done, I strolled down the street and, most naturally and
quite unthinkingly, found myself a few minutes later looking over
the Eastmann gate at Phyllis on the porch. To say that this
charming girl was surprised by my sudden appearance was no less
true than to admit that she did not seem in the least displeased.
I positively had no intention of going in, but before I knew it I
was sitting beside her, relating in the most casual way the
reason of my coming.

"How good it was of you," said the ingenuous creature, "and how
delighted and grateful Meadowvale will be. It must be glorious to
be rich enough to do things for other people."

Now it is not a disagreeable sensation to feel that one is rich
and good and glorious in the large gray eyes of a very pretty
woman, and I was conscious of the mild intoxication from the
compliment. "It is, indeed," I answered magnanimously. "I have
always maintained that money is given to us in trust for those
around us, and that in making others happy we find our greatest
happiness. I regret that I have not wholly lived up to this
undeniably correct principle."

"It will require at least a thousand dollars," she said naively.

"Oh, at least."

She was silent a moment. Then she said: "I was wondering what I
would do if I had a thousand dollars to give away."

"What do you think you would do?"

"Speaking for my own preferences I think I should like to
establish a country club."

"The very thing. If there is one crying want more than another in
Meadowvale it is a country club, with golf links, tennis courts,
and shower baths."

"Now you are laughing at me."

"Not at all. Fancy old Hank and you playing a foursome with Aunt
Mary and me for the cider and apples. Why, it would add years of
robustness to our waning lives."

"No," said the girl decisively. "It isn't feasible."

"Then," I went on musingly, "we might have an Art Institute, or
the Phyllis Kinglake School of Expression, or the Meadowvale
Woman's Club, or the Colonial Dames, or, best of all, the
Daughters of the American Revolution."

"That shows how little you appreciate the local situation," she
responded quickly, "for your best of all is worse and worse.
Imagine an order of Daughters in a place where every woman's
ancestors did nothing but fight in the Revolution. As well call a
town meeting at once. Ah,"--with a