r, and
we have our meals at certain hours. Folks that come to see us have to do
as we do or they don't get any meals. I hope you understand that."

"Yes, sir," replied Dick, his heart sinking down deeper than ever. It
was worse than he had thought. Still the idea of a meal, after his long
ride, seemed good.

Mr. Larabee's fine country home was considered one of the best places in
that part of the state. There was not a crooked fence on it, the gravel
walks were as trim as though no one had ever stepped on their surface,
and the grass was always cut to a certain length. The house was always
painted at a certain time of the year, as were also the barns, and the
place looked almost like a picture in a book.

In fact, Mr. Larabee's neighbors used to say he never took any pleasure
in it, as he was always so busy looking to see if a stick or a stone had
not become misplaced, or if the paint on the house or barn was not
chipping off.

"So this is Nephew Richard, is it?" asked a small, prim, rather
thin-faced woman, as she came to the door when the carriage containing
Dick and his uncle drove up the path. "I'm glad to see you, Nephew
Richard," she went on, extending a cold and clammy hand, and giving Dick
a little peck that seemed more like a nip from a bird than a kiss.

"Is dinner ready?" asked Mr. Larabee.

"You know it is, Ezra," replied his wife. "I'll serve it as soon as you
put the horse up. Come in, Nephew Richard, but be sure and wipe your
feet."

She watched Dick while he scraped off an invisible quantity of dust from
his shoes that had scarcely touched the ground that morning. After
giving them what he thought was a good polishing on the mat, he started
to enter the front hall.

"Wait!" almost screamed his aunt. "There's a little mud on that left
heel!"

Dick obligingly gave it another scrape on the mat and started in.

"One moment, Nephew Richard," said Mrs. Larabee, in almost imploring
accents. "Let me wipe your satchel off before you go in. I'm afraid
it's dusty from the drive, and I can't bear dust in my house."

She kept Dick waiting on the front steps while she went in and got a
cloth, with which she carefully wiped off the dress-suit case, though
Dick did not see how there could be any dust on it, as it had been
covered with the lap robe all the way.

"Now you may come in," Aunt Samantha said, as graciously as was
possible. "Welcome to The Firs. We call our place The Firs," she went
on, "becaus