Yet that is not all--the sense of peace and protection that I had
when working in my garden has had a shock. In spite of the inhospitable
air it gives the place, I think we must keep the gates closed.
Why was Jenks-Smith inspired to start a land-boom here and fate allowed
to make fashion smile on it, when we were so uneventfully happy, so
twinfully content?
* * * * *
Martin Cortright arrived on Wednesday, and is safely ensconced with
Martha and Timothy Saunders, who could give him the couple of plainly
furnished rooms he desired, and breakfast at any hour. For a man of no
hours (which usually means he never breakfasts before nine) to forgather
cheerfully at a commuter's table at 7:15 A.M. is a trial to him, and a
second breakfast is apt to cause a cloud in Madam C.'s domestic horizon.
Therefore, father allowed Martin to do as he suggested, live at the farm
cottage and work here in the library or attic den, as suits his
convenience. In this way he feels quite independent, has motive for
exercise in walking to and fro, and as he is always welcome to dine with
us, can mix his portion of solitude and society in the exact proportion
of his taste, even as his well-shaped fingers carefully blend the tobacco
for his outdoor pipe.
Dear old fellow, he seems so happy and bubbling over with good temper at
having overstepped the tyranny of habit, that I shall almost expect to
see his gray hairs turn brown again as the wintry pelt of the weasel does
in spring.
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