t of concern. "Perfectly
rotten carelessness. But I've sent to town for a corking man who handles
these things; he's coming out to-morrow with his staff. After all, it's
merely a question of understanding period, and American restoration is
diabolically clever."

But the old farmer waved the younger man grandly aside. "That's as may
be; that's as may be," he said, hastily. "Put it in the kitchen or use
it in the g'rage--I ain't one to advise waste; but see here, my young
man"--he stared impressively into the architect's face--"I knowed
Willum's folks. I know what he's used to and what he's got a right to
expect. Ef he's lost money, that ain't none of my business, and ef he's
married an Eyetalian, that ain't no reflection on _her_. As I take it,
they 'm all sorter down at heel in It'ly, and it seems they got now so
they don't know no better. But I knowed Willum's folks. I know he should
hold up his head in his own country."

A faint color stole into Mr. Pawket's gray-bearded face. Mrs. Pawket's
eyes were fixed admiringly on her husband. Mr. Badgely bent his head in
respectful listening. Mr. Pawket struck an attitude close to the
Everything Jar. He was glad that the twins, with their habit of shrewd
analysis, were not there as he said:

"I ain't rich--but," with a significant cough, "I ain't no one to stand
by and see the hull Center pokin' the finger er shame at Willum and his
furniture. The vanilla ... well, what's done is done, and it can't be
helped: seems it's what they set their hearts on and some folks like to
be strange-appearin', but the furniture--well, it don't suit, that's
all! Willum's the kind should have what 's all the go--plush and satin
and chenille-like." The old farmer looked at the architect meaningly; he
felt himself suddenly a man of the world; he stood almost straight in
his wrinkled boots, looking around the little kitchen fiercely and
roaring: "Golden oak or bird's-eye maple! I got catalogues. Spare no
expense. Get him what he needs. I'll back you!"

It was a moment full of significance. The architect, a man of many
subtle perceptions, was quite aware of it. He himself had been worried
over the general attitude of the country community toward the villa,
which, he could see, had deeply disappointed and mortified anticipation.
Rumors had reached him that the neighborhood not only repudiated the new
building on the grounds of general distaste, but that a movement of
ostracism had begun by which