d with
"summer boarders," liberally advertised for in the great city, that she
hardly had a corner for Ham and his bride. She was glad enough that she
had made the effort to find one, however, when she learned what was the
nature of the stranger's business. There was a look of undisguised
astonishment on the faces of the regular guests, all around, when they
gathered for the next meal. It happened to be supper, but they all
looked at the table and then at one another; and it was a pity Ham and
Miranda did not understand those glances, or make a longer visit. They
might have learned more about Mrs. Myers if not the Academy. As it was,
they only gained a very high opinion of her cookery and hospitality, as
well as an increase of respect for the "institution of learning," and
for that excellent gentleman, Mr. Hart, with a dim hope that Dabney
Kinzer might enjoy the inestimable advantages offered by Grantley and
Mrs. Myers, and the society of Mr. Hart's two wonderful boys.

Miranda was inclined to stand up for her brother, somewhat, but finally
agreed with Ham that--

"What Dabney needs is schooling and polish, my dear. It'll be good for
him to board in the same house with two such complete young gentlemen."

"Of course, Ham. And then he'll be sure of having plenty to eat. There
was almost too much on the table."

"Not if the boarders had all been boys of Dab's age and appetite. Mrs.
Myers is evidently accustomed to them, I should say."

So she was, indeed, as all the summer boarders were ready to testify at
the next morning's breakfast-table. There was one thing, among others,
that Mrs. Myers failed to tell Mr. and Mrs. Morris. She forgot to say
that the house she lived in, with the outlying farm belonging to it and
nearly all the things in it, were the property of Mr. Joseph Hart,
having cost that gentleman very little more than a sharp lawsuit.
Neither did she say a word about how long or short a time Mr. Hart had
given her to pay him his price for it. All that would have been none of
Ham's business or Miranda's. Still, it might have had its importance.

So it might, if either or both of them could have been at the
breakfast-table of the Hart homestead the morning after Annie Foster's
sudden departure. The table was there with the breakfast things on it,
and husband and wife, one at either end, as usual; but the side-seats
were vacant.

"Where are Joe and Foster, Maria?" asked Mr. Hart.

"Gone on some errand of