be a little behindhand, Ketury," stammered Asaph hurriedly.
"Town affairs are important, of course, and can't be neglected. I--"

"Yes, yes; that's so, Ketury," cut in Mr. Bangs.

"You see--"

"Hum! Yes, I see." Keturah's tone was several degrees below freezing.
"Hum! I s'pose 'twas town affairs kept you, too, hey?"

"Well, well--er--not exactly, as you might say, but--" Bailey squeezed
himself into the armchair at the end of the table opposite his wife, the
end which, with sarcasm not the less keen for being unintentional, was
called the "head." "Not exactly town affairs, 'twan't that kept me,
Ketury, but--My! don't them cod cheeks smell good? You always could cook
cod cheeks, if I do say it."

The compliment was wasted. Mrs. Bangs had a sermon to deliver, and its
text was not "cod cheeks."

"Bailey Bangs," she began, "when I was brought to realize that my
husband, although apparently an able-bodied man, couldn't support me as
I'd been used to be supported, and when I was forced to support HIM
by keepin' boarders, I says, 'If there's one thing that my house shall
stand for it's punctual promptness at meal times. I say nothing,' I
says, 'about the inconvenience of gettin' on with only one hired help
when we ought to have three. If Providence, in its unscrutable wisdom,'
I says, 'has seen fit to lay this burden onto me, the burden of a
household of boarders and a husband whom--'"

And just then the power referred to by Mrs. Bangs intervened to spare
her husband the remainder of the preachment. From the driveway of the
yard, beside the dining-room windows, came the rattle of wheels and
the tramp of a horse's feet. Mrs. Matilda Tripp, who sat nearest the
windows, on that side, rose and peered out.

"It's the depot wagon, Ketury," she said. "There's somebody inside it. I
wonder if they're comin' here."

"Transients" were almost unknown quantities at the Bayport Hotel in May.
Consequently, all the boarders and the landlady herself crowded to the
windows. The "depot wagon" had drawn up by the steps, and Gabe Lumley,
the driver, had descended from his seat and was doing his best to open
the door of the ancient vehicle. It stuck, of course; the doors of all
depot wagons stick.

"Hold on a shake!" commanded some one inside the carriage. "Wait till
I get a purchase on her. Now, then! All hands to the ropes! Heave--ho!
THERE she comes!"

The door flew back with a bang. A man sprang out upon the lower step of
the por