either would like to admit. They represented
opposite interests; one might at any moment become inimical to the
other. Of this, however, no faintest trace was allowed to appear upon
the calm unruffled surface of things.

If Inglesby had chosen this man by design, it had been a wise choice.
For he was undoubtedly very popular, and quite deservedly so. He had
unassailable connections, as we all knew. He brought a broader
culture, which was not without its effect. And in spite of the fact
that he represented Inglesby, there was not a door in Appleboro that
was not open to him. Inglesby himself seemed a less sinister figure in
the light of this younger and dazzling personality. Thus the secretary
gradually removed the thorns and briars of doubts and prejudices,
sowing in their stead the seeds of Inglesby's ambition and
rehabilitation, in the open light of day. He knew his work was well
done; he was sure of ultimate success; he had always been successful,
and there had been, heretofore, no one strong enough to actively
oppose him. He could therefore afford to make haste slowly. Even had
he been aware of the Butterfly Man's acrid estimate of him, it must
have amused him. When all was said and done, what did a Butterfly
Man--even such a one as ours--amount to, in the world of Big Business
_He_ hadn't stocks nor bonds nor power nor pull. He hadn't anything
but a personality that arrested you, a setter dog, a slowly-growing
name, a room full of insects in an old priest's garden. Of course
Hunter would have smiled! And there wasn't a soul to tell him anything
of Slippy McGee!

CHAPTER XI

A LITTLE GIRL GROWN UP

Summer stole out a-tiptoe, and October had come among the live-oaks
and the pines, and touched the wide marshes and made them brown, and
laid her hand upon the barrens and the cypress swamps and set them
aflame with scarlet and gold. October is not sere and sorrowful with
us, but a ruddy and deep-bosomed lass, a royal and free-hearted
spender and giver of gifts. Asters of imperial purple, golden rod fit
for kings' scepters, march along with her in ever thinning ranks; the
great bindweed covers fences and clambers up dying cornstalks; and in
many a covert and beside the open ditches the Gerardia swings her pink
and airy bells. All down the brown roads white lady's-lace and yarrow
and the stiff purple iron-weed have leaped into bloom; under its faded
green coat the sugar-cane shows purple; and sumac and sassafr