wanted the other one.  The other one would want to be something more interesting surely than a small-town bank president.  Have him learn a good loose trade and see the world—­get into real life!  But they’d had him going for a minute—­when the only meaning he could get from Harvey D.’s roundabout talk was that the old girl of yesterday had misunderstood his attentions.  That would have been a nice fix to find himself in!  But Merle was off his mind; he would become a real Whipple and some day be the head of the family.  Funny thing for a Cowan to fall into!  He turned to his dusty case and set up the next item on his yellow copy paper.

“Rumour hath it that Sandy Seaver’s Sunday trips out of town mean business, and that a certain bright resident of Geneseo will shortly become Mrs. Sandy.”

He paused again.  All at once it seemed to him that the Whipples had been hasty.  They would get to thinking the thing over and drop it; never mention it to him again.  Well, he was willing to let it drop.  He wouldn’t mention it again if they didn’t.  He would tell no one.

* * * * *

Nor did he speak of it until the following evening, after the Whipples had surprisingly not only mentioned it again but had operated in the little bank office, under the supervision of Squire Culbreth, a simple mechanism of the law which left him the legal father of but one son.  Then he went to astonish the Pennimans with his news, only to find that Winona had secretively nursed it even longer than he had.  Mrs. Penniman had also been told of the probability of this great event, but, nevertheless, wept gently when Dave certified to her its irrevocable consummation.  Only Judge Penniman remained to be startled; and he, being irritated that others had enjoyed a foreknowledge guiltily withheld from him, chose to pretend that he, too, had been mysteriously enlightened.  He had, he said, seen the thing coming.  He became at the supper table a creature of gnawing and baffled curiosity which he must hide by boasting an intimate acquaintance with Whipple motives and intentions.  He intimated that but for his advice and counsel the great event might not have come about.  The initiative had been his, though certain other people might claim the credit.  Of course he hadn’t wanted to talk about it before.  He guessed he could keep a close mouth as well as the next one.

The Merle twin at this momentous meal sat as one enthroned, receiving tribute from fawning subjects.  His name was already Merle Whipple, and he was going to have a pony to ride, and he would come sometimes to see them.  His cordial tolerance of them quite overcame Mrs. Penniman again.  She had to feign an errand to the kitchen stove, and came back dropping the edge of her apron from her eyes.  Winona was exalted; she felt that her careful training of the child had raised him to this eminence, and she rejoiced in it as a tribute to her capacity.  Her labours had been richly rewarded.  Dave Cowan alone seemed not to be enough impressed by the honours heaped upon his son.  He jestingly spoke of him as a crown prince.  He said if you really had to stay in a small town you might as well be adopted by the Whipples as any one else.