ed to border on that of the exquisite.

His countenance was without doubt attractive, for it was intelligent
and expressed a quiet humor that seemed to have much kindliness mixed
with it. His treatment of the unsophisticated Gusty, who hovered about
him with open admiration, held just that quality of good-natured
tolerance which did not offend the waitress but that showed discerning
persons that he considered her only in the light of an artless child.

"D'you know who that is?" Gusty whispered to Louise when she found time
to do so. The plump girl was vastly excited; her hands shook as she
set down the dishes. "That's Mr. Judson Bane."

"Yes. I chanced to meet Mr. Bane once, as I told you," smiled Louise,
keeping up the illusion of her own connection with the fringe of the
theatrical world.

"And Miss Louder and Miss Noyes have come. My, you ought to see
_them_!" said the emphatic waitress. "They've got one o' them
flivvers. Some gen'leman friend of Miss Noyes' lent it to 'em.
They're out now hunting what they call a garridge for it. That's a
fancy name for a barn, I guess. And dressed!" gasped Gusty finally.
"They're dressed to kill!"

"We shall have lively times around Cardhaven now, sha'n't we?" Louise
commented demurely.

"We almost always do in summer," Gusty agreed with a sigh. "Last
summer an Italian lost his trick bear in the pine woods 'twixt here and
Paulmouth and the young 'uns didn't darest to go out of the houses for
a week. Poor critter! When they got him he was fair foundered eating
green cranberries in the bogs."

"Something doing," no matter what, was Gusty's idea of life as it
should be. Louise finished her meal and went out of the dining-room.
In the hall her mesh bag caught in the latch of the screen door and
dropped to the floor. Somebody was right at hand to pick it up for her.

"Allow me." said a deep and cultivated voice. "Extremely annoying."

It was Mr. Bane, hat in hand. He restored the bag, and as Louise
quietly thanked him they walked out of the Inn together. Louise was
returning to Cap'n Abe's store, and she turned in that direction before
she saw that Mr. Bane was bound down the hill, too.

"I fancy we are fellow-outcasts," he said. "You, too, are a visitor to
this delightfully quaint place?"

"Yes, Mr. Bane," she returned frankly. "Though I can claim
relationship to some of these Cardhaven folk. My mother came from the
Cape."

"Indeed? It is not such a