“I suppose,” said Uncle Jerry, blandly, “that is because they are interested in the prosperity of the country, and have simple democratic tastes for themselves.  I’m afraid you are not democratic, Miss Eschelle.”

“Oh, I’m anxious about the public also.  I’m on your side, Mr. Hollowell; but you don’t go far enough.  You just throw in a college now and then to keep us quiet, but you owe it to the country to show the English that a democrat can have as fine a house as anybody.”

“I call that real patriotism.  When I get rich, Miss Eschelle, I’ll bear it in mind.”

“Oh, you never will be rich,” said Carmen, sweetly, bound to pursue her whim.  “You might come to me for a start to begin the house.  I was very lucky last spring in A. and B. bonds.”

“How was that?  Are you interested in A. and B.?” asked Uncle Jerry, turning around with a lively interest in this gentle little woman.

“Oh, no; we sold out.  We sold when we heard what an interest there was in the road.  Mamma said it would never do for two capitalists to have their eggs in the same basket.”

“What do you mean, Carmen?” asked Margaret, startled.  “Why, that is the road Mr. Henderson is in.”

“Yes, I know, dear.  There were too many in it.”

“Isn’t it safe?” said Margaret, turning to Hollowell.

“A great deal more solid than it was,” he replied.  “It is part of a through line.  I suppose Miss Eschelle found a better investment.”

“One nearer home,” she admitted, in the most matter-of-fact way.

“Henderson must have given the girl points,” thought Hollowell.  He began to feel at home with her.  If he had said the truth, it would have been that she was more his kind than Mrs. Henderson, but that he respected the latter more.

“I think we might go in partnership, Miss Eschelle, to mutual advantage —­but not in building.  Your ideas are too large for me there.”

“I should be a very unreliable partner, Mr. Hollowell; but I could enlarge your ideas, if I had time.”

Hollowell laughed, and said he hadn’t a doubt of that.  Margaret inquired for Mrs. Hollowell and the children, and she and Carmen appointed an hour for calling at the Ocean House.  The talk went to other topics, and after a half-hour ended in mutual good-feeling.

“What a delightful old party!” said Carmen, after he had gone.  “I’ve a mind to adopt him.”

In a week Hollowell and Carmen were the best of friends.  She called him “Uncle Jerry,” and buzzed about him, to his great delight.  “The beauty of it is,” he said, “you never can tell where she will light.”