wanting to go North, anyway. In fact, he told me so."

Mrs. Easterfield laughed. She did not believe that Mr. Lancaster would
want to go North, or West, or East, although South might suit him. But
she saw the point of Olive's request; it would be awkward to have him at
the tollhouse.

"Oh, I will take care of him," she said, "and he shall continue his
vacation trip just as soon as Mr. Easterfield and I choose to give him
up."

"You see," said Olive in an explanatory way, "I have not anything in the
world to do with him, but I thought he might want to come back to see
uncle again. And, really," she added, speaking with a great deal of
earnestness, "I don't want to be bothered with any more young men! And
now I will call uncle. You know I had to say all these things to you
immediately."

Mrs. Easterfield walked quickly back to her carriage, but she did not
wait to see Captain Asher. As a hostess it was necessary for her to
hurry back home; and as a quick-witted, sensible woman she saw that it
would be well to leave these two happy people to themselves. This was
not the time for them to talk to her. So, when the captain, unwilling to
wait any longer, appeared at the door of the house, these two dear
friends had kissed and parted, and the carriage was speeding away.

On her way home Mrs. Easterfield forgot her slight chagrin at what her
husband had not done, in her joy at what he had accomplished. He had
neglected to take her fully into his confidence, and had acted very much
as if he had been a naval commander, who had cut his telegraphic
connections in order not to be embarrassed by orders from the home
government. But, on the other hand, he had saved her from the terrible
shock of hearing Olive declare that she had just engaged herself to
Rupert Hemphill. If it had not been for the extraordinary promptness of
her good Tom--a style of action he had acquired in the railroad
business--it would have been just as likely as not that Olive would have
accepted that young man before she had had an opportunity of finding out
his want of breadth and cultivation.

_CHAPTER XXVII_

_By Proxy._

About half-past twelve Claude Locker made his appearance in the spacious
hall. He looked out of the front door; he looked out of the back door;
he peered into the parlor; he glanced up the stairway; and then he
peeped into the library. He had not seen the lady of the house since her
return, and he was waiting for Olive. Thi