she worshiped the little bookkeeper and, except during
the periods of "vacation" and "sympathetics," was tremendously proud
of him. Albert soon discovered that Mr. Keeler's feeling for her was
equally strong. In his case, though, there was also a strong strain of
gratitude.

"She's a fine woman, Al," he confided to his assistant on one occasion.
"A fine woman. . . . Yes, yes, yes. They don't make 'em any finer. Ah
hum! And not so long ago I read about a passel of darn fools arguin'
that the angels in heaven was all he-ones. . . . Umph! . . . Sho, sho!
If men was as good as women, Ansel--Alfred--Albert, I mean--we could
start an opposition heaven down here most any time. 'Most any time--yes,
yes."

It was considerable for him to say. Except when on a vacation, Laban was
not loquacious.

Each Sunday afternoon, when the weather was pleasant, he came, dressed
in his best black cutaway, shiny at elbows and the under part of the
sleeves, striped trousers and a pearl gray soft hat with a black band,
a hat which looked as much out of place above his round, withered little
face as a red roof might have looked on a family vault, and he and the
housekeeper went for a walk.

Rachel, in her Sunday black, bulked large beside him. As Captain Zelotes
said, the pair looked like "a tug takin' a liner out to sea."

CHAPTER V

Outside of the gates of the Snow place Albert was making many
acquaintances and a few friends. After church on Sundays his grandmother
had a distressful habit of suddenly seizing his arm or his coat-tail as
he was hurrying toward the vestibule and the sunshine of outdoors, and
saying: "Oh, Albert, just a minute! Here's somebody you haven't met
yet, I guess. Elsie"--or Nellie or Mabel or Henry or Charlie or George,
whichever it happened to be--"this is my grandson, Albert Speranza." And
the young person to whom he was thus introduced would, if a male, extend
a hesitating hand, give his own an embarrassed shake, smile uncertainly
and say, "Yes--er--yes. Pleased to meet you." Or, if of the other sex,
would blush a little and venture the observation that it was a lovely
morning, and wasn't the sermon splendid.

These Sabbath introductions led to week-day, or rather week-evening,
meetings. The principal excitement in South Harniss was "going for the
mail." At noon and after supper fully one-half of the village population
journeyed to the post office. Albert's labors for Z. Snow and Co.
prevented his attend