id he didn't know but he'd do it yet. He's got
dark-colored stones up for Mis' Durgin and Jackson, so 't they look as
old as any of 'em. I tell you, he knows how to do things."

"It seems so," said Westover, with a bitterness apparently lost upon the
optimistic philosopher.

"Yes, sir. I guess it's all worked out for the best. So long's he didn't
marry Cynthy, I don't care who he married, and--I guess he's made out
fust-rate, and he treats his wife well, and his mother-in-law, too. You
wouldn't hardly know they was in the house, they're so kind of quiet; and
if a guest wants to see Jeff, he's got to send and ask for him; clerk
does everything, but I guess Jeff keeps an eye out and knows what's goin'
on. He's got an elegant soot of appartments, and he lives as private as
if he was in his own house, him and his wife. But when there's anything
goin' on that needs a head, they're both right on deck.

"He don't let his wife worry about things a great deal; he's got a
fust-rate of a housekeeper, but I guess old Mis' Vostrand keeps the
housekeeper, as you may say. I hear some of the boa'ders talkin' up
there, and one of 'em said 't the great thing about Lion's Head was 't
you could feel everywheres in it that it was a lady's house. I guess Jeff
has a pootty good time, and a time 't suits him. He shows up on the
coachin' parties, and he's got himself a reg'lar English coachman's rig,
with boots outside his trouse's, and a long coat and a fuzzy plug-hat: I
tell you, he looks gay! He don't spend his winters at Lion's Head: he is
off to Europe about as soon as the house closes in the fall, and he keeps
bringin' home new dodges. Guess you couldn't get no boa'd there for no
seven dollars a week now! I tell you, Jeff's the gentleman now, and his
wife's about the nicest lady I ever saw. Do' know as I care so much about
her mother; do' know as I got anything ag'inst her, either, very much.
But that little girl, Beechy, as they call her, she's a beauty! And round
with Jeff all the while! He seems full as fond of her as her own mother
does, and that devil, that couldn't seem to get enough of tormentin'
little children when he was a boy, is as good and gentle with that little
thing as-pie!"

Whitwell seemed to have come to an end of his celebration of Jeff's
success, and Westover asked:

"And what do you make now, of planchette's brokenshaft business? Or don't
you believe in planchette any more?"

Whitwell's beaming face clouded. "W