metimes complained rather plaintively. And his attentions took the form
of a more or less pleasant watch-dog constancy, and an always more and
never less persistence in warding off other suitors not handicapped by
his own scruples in regard to matrimony.

CHAPTER VII

PAINFUL DUTY

When Eveley arrived home late that night she smiled to observe that all
the down-stairs windows were wide open to the breeze, and in the corner
bedroom, apportioned to Father-in-law, the curtains were down. At the
back of the house she found Father-in-law himself, with the proverbial
whiskered friend, critically inspecting her rustic steps through the
clouds of smoke from their pipes which they removed to facilitate their
interested stares as she approached.

"How do you do?" she cried brightly. "You are Mr. Severs, Senior, aren't
you? Welcome home! And this is your friend, I know." She shook hands with
them both, with great cordiality. She must disarm them, before she could
begin working them into a proper adjustment with life. "I am Eveley
Ainsworth. Are you admiring my steps? I am very eccentric and
temperamental and all that, and I have to live alone. I do not like being
crowded in with other folks. I like to do as I please, and not bother
with anybody else."

"Very sensible, I'm sure," said Father-in-law.

"Sure," echoed the whiskered one breezily.

"That was the first little seed," she chuckled to herself, as she ran
blithely up the stairs. Later, when she heard Mrs. Severs in the room
beneath, she went to the head of the inner stairway and called down to
her.

"Come up a minute. I want to see you."

Mrs. Severs lost no time. "My husband says it is simply absurd," she
began breathlessly. "He says people have to do their duty. He says a
thing is right or wrong, and that settles it. We are all father has in
the world, and Dody says it is plainly our duty to keep him with us. He
says a fellow would be taking an awful chance to marry you, if that is a
sample of your principles. Don't you believe in any duty, Miss
Ainsworth?"

"Only one," said Eveley with great firmness.

"Oh, what is that?" came the eager query.

"That," was the dignified reply, "is something that doesn't enter into
this case at all, and doesn't need to be discussed."

"Well, Dody says--"

"Dody may be a very sweet husband, but he is not progressive. His idea is
old, outworn and antedeluvian. Simply musty. Now, this is my plan--the
plan of progres