women. Why don't you
live somewhere else?"

"Don't know," I said again, with little candor.

"I had better put down that in this bit of old New York you find an
outlook more in sympathy with your lovable and homely characters.
Wisteria blooming in the backyard," she observed, rising and leaning out
of the window. "Geraniums on the sills opposite and an old granny
darning socks, her white-capped head bending over her work and framed by
the scarlet of the flowers. Neat little touch. Hope you'll like my
article. Look for it in the number for Sunday week. My murderer goes in
day after to-morrow. He won't keep much longer, people have already
stopped sending him flowers. Well, good-by and thank you."

I pressed the little hand she laughingly proffered, and she tripped out,
meeting Frances in the hallway.

"Isn't that a duck of a baby!" she exclaimed, smiling at the mother and
running downstairs.

"Frances, I am famous," I said. "Sunday after next I'll be in the
_Banner_, three times the size of life, in at least three columns. That
chit of a girl who just went out is the celebrated Cordelia. She has
interviewed me and written down a thousand beautiful things I never
said. She's a bright little creature."

"She wears nice hats," commented Frances. "I hope she will do justice to
you. It is time we went down to lunch, if we are to catch that train. Is
your suitcase packed?"

"Never thought of it!" I exclaimed. "You go right down and begin. I'll
follow in a moment."

A half an hour later we were in a taxicab, speeding to the station.
Eulalie was with us; I had insisted on her being brought along. How
could Frances obtain the full rest she needed, unless some of the
details of existence were attended to for her? She had objected
strenuously and even threatened to unpack her little trunk and remain in
New York, but I successfully bullied her into acceptance by commenting
on the alleged peaked look of Baby Paul. Maternal fears, despite the
infant's appearance of excellent health, prevailed at last. A man, I
discover, needs a firm hand in dealing with the opposite sex.

My dear sister had indicated to me a small farm near the lake, where
three rooms were to be rented. According to her the cows gave absolutely
genuine milk and butter, while the hens laid undeniable eggs. Vegetables
grew in profusion, the post office was but a half-mile away and the
railway station within twenty minutes' walk. Privacy was also insured by
t