aving Henry
to manoeuver painfully in the narrow space. After a few steps,
however, a sudden thought made him turn back. "Maybe you'd rather walk
up, too," he suggested to Miss Stevens.

"No, I think I'll ride," she said coldly.

He opened the door in extreme haste.

"Do come on and walk," he pleaded. "Don't hold it against me because I
just don't seem to be able to think of more than one thing at a time;
but I was so wrapped up in this deal that-- Really," and he sank his
voice confidentially, "I have a tremendous bargain here, and I'll be
nervous about it until I have it clenched. I'll tell you why as we go
home."

He held out his hand as a matter of course to help her down. The white
of his eyes was remarkably clear, the irises were remarkably blue, the
pupils remarkably deep. Suddenly her face cleared and she laughed.

"It was silly of me to be snippy, wasn't it?" she confessed, as she
took his hand and stepped lightly to the ground. It had just recurred
to her that when he knew Princeman was walking over to see her he had
said nothing, but had engaged an automobile.

Old man Gifford had nothing much to say when they caught up with him.
Mr. Turner tried him with remarks about the weather, and received full
information, but when he attempted to discuss the details of the walnut
purchase, he received but mere grunts in reply, except finally this:

"There's no use, young man. I won't talk about them trees till I get
Hepseba's opinion."

At the house Hepseba waddled out on the little stoop in response to old
man Gifford's call, and stood regarding the strangers stonily through
her narrow little slits of eyes.

"This gentleman, Hepseba," said old man Gifford, "wants to buy my
walnut trees. What do you think of him?"

In response to that leading question, Hepseba studied Sam Turner from
head to foot with the sort of scrutiny under which one slightly reddens.

[Illustration: Hepseba studied him from head to foot]

"I like him," finally announced Hepseba, in a surprisingly liquid and
feminine voice. "I like both of them," an unexpected turn which
brought a flush to the face of Miss Stevens.

"All right, young man," said old man Gifford briskly. "Now, then, you
come in the front room and write your contract, and I'll take your
check."

All alacrity and open cordiality now, he led the way into the queer-old
front room, musty with the solemnity of many dim Sundays.

"Just set down here in this ea