must adapt ourselves to circumstances, and she was going to adapt
herself to the Greek scholar's hobby. She was a sensible woman, and did
not for a moment purpose to ask him to teach her the dead languages,
philosophy, or science, things in which he knew she took no interest.
Indeed, she would not ask him to teach her anything, but she was going
to give him the opportunity to do so, and she was quite sure that that
would be sufficient for her purpose.

She intended to make herself an audience of one, and to listen in a way
she knew would please him to the recital of his travels and experiences.
Of these he had often essayed to talk to her, but she had not encouraged
him. She never liked to talk upon subjects of which other people knew
more than she did, and she always endeavored to bring the conversation
into a channel where she could take an equal part. If she could lead, so
much the better. But now she was going to let Mr. Tippengray talk to her
just as much as he pleased, and tell her all he wanted to tell her. She
now knew him better than she had done before, and she had strong hopes
that by this new string she would be able to lead him from the Squirrel
Inn to Lethbury whenever she chose.

Mrs. Petter had long been accustomed to look upon Calthea Rose as a
person whose anger would blaze up very suddenly, but would go out quite
as promptly--which was true, when Miss Calthea chose to put it out--but
she was a little surprised that Calthea, after so recently going away in
a huff, should treat Mr. Tippengray with such easy friendliness. If the
Greek scholar himself felt surprised, he did not show it, for he was
always ready to meet a cordial overture.

Miss Calthea had just accepted an invitation to be seated in the
shade,--which she knew would very soon be followed by Mrs. Petter's
going into the house, for that good woman was seldom content to sit long
out of doors,--when up stepped Ida Mayberry.

"Mr. Tippengray," said she in the clear, distinct way in which she
always spoke, "here is something which I have been trying to explain to
Mr. Beam, but I am afraid I haven't a quite correct idea about it
myself. Will you please read it, and tell me how it strikes you!"

[Illustration: "I HAVE DISSECTED ONE."]

This was too much for the patience of Calthea Rose. Her resolutions of
geniality and good nature could not stand for a moment against such an
interruption at such a time. She turned sharply upon the nurse-maid,