“My nephew is a law student,” said Miss Clark as she introduced the two young people, “and I want him to know all of our neighbors.”

“My name is Stanley Clark,” said the newcomer, shaking hands cordially.  “I’m going to be here for a long time so I hope I’ll see you often.”

Roger liked him at once and thought his manner particularly pleasant in view of the fact that he was several years older.  Roger was so accustomed to the companionship of Edward Watkins, who frequently joined the Club in their festivities and who often came to Rosemont to call on Miss Merriam, that the difference did not seem to him a cause of embarrassment.  He was unusually easy for a boy of his age because he had always been accustomed to take his sailor father’s place at home in the entertainment of his mother’s guests.

Young Clark, on his side, found his new acquaintance a boy worth talking to, and they got on well.  He was studying at a law school in the city, it seemed, and commuted every day.

“It’s a long ride,” he agreed when Roger suggested it, “but when I get home I have the good country air to breathe and I’d rather have that than town amusements just now when I’m working hard.”

Roger spoke of Edward Watkins and Stanley was interested in the possibility of meeting him.  Evidently his aunts had told him all about the Belgian baby and Miss Merriam, for he said Elisabeth would be the nearest approach to a soldier from a Belgian battlefield that he had seen.

Roger left with the feeling that his new acquaintance would be a desirable addition to the neighborhood group and he was so pleased that he stopped in at his Aunt Louise’s not only to shake the furnace but to tell her about Stanley Clark.

[Illustration:  The Hot Bed]

During the next month they all came to know him well and they liked his cheerfulness and his interest in what they were doing and planning.  On Saturdays he helped Roger build a hot bed in the sunniest spot against the side of the kitchen ell.  They found that the frost had not stiffened the ground after they managed to dig down a foot, so that the excavation was not as hard as they had expected.  They dug a hole the size of two window sashes and four feet deep, lining the sides with some old bricks that they found in the cellar.  At first they filled the entire bed with fresh stable manure and straw.  After it had stayed under the glass two days it was quite hot and they beat it down a foot and put on six inches of soil made one-half of compost and one-half of leaf mould that they found in a sheltered corner of the West Woods.

“Grandfather didn’t believe we could manage to get good soil at this season even if we did succeed in digging the hole, but when I make up my mind to do a thing I like to succeed,” said Roger triumphantly when they had fitted the sashes on to planks that sloped at the sides so that rain would run off the glass, and called the girls out to admire their result.