“I haven’t the slightest intention of giving it up,” answered Kate.  “That woman is a skin-flint and I don’t propose to let her beat me.  No doubt she was glad to get four-fifty last fall.  She’s only trying to see if she can wring me for a dollar more.  If I have to board all next summer, I shall have to watch every penny, or I’ll not come out even, let alone saving anything.  I’ll wager you a nickel that before we leave, she comes over here and offers me the room at the same price she got last winter.”

“I hope you are right,” said Adam.  “How do you like her?”

“Got a grouch, nasty temper, mean disposition; clean house, good room, good cook —­ maybe; lives just on the edge of comfort by daily skimping,” summarized Kate.

“If she comes, are you going to try it?” asked Adam.

“Yes, I think I shall.  It is nearest my purse and requirements and if the former teacher stayed there, it will seem all right for me; but she isn’t going to put that little stove in my room.  It wouldn’t heat the closet.  How did you like her?”

“Not much!” said Adam, promptly.  “If glaring at your back could have killed you, you would have fallen dead when you examined the closet, and bedding, and stove.  She honeyed up when she had to, but she was mad as hops.  I nearly bursted right out when she talked about ‘taking time by the fetlock.’  I wanted to tell her she looked like she had, and almost got the life kicked out of her doing it, but I thought I’d better not.”

Kate laughed.  “Yes, I noticed,” she said, “but I dared not look at you.  I was afraid you’d laugh.  Isn’t this a fine lunch?”

“Bet your life it is,” said Adam.  “Ma never puts up any other kind.”

“I wish someone admired me as much as you do your mother, Adam,” said Kate.

“Well, you be as nice as Ma, and somebody is sure to,” said he.

“But I never could,” said Kate.

“Oh, yes, you could,” said Adam, “if you would only set yourself to do it and try with all your might to be like her.  Look, quick!  That must be her ‘Medical Course’ man!”

Kate glanced across the way and saw a man she thought to be about thirty years of age.  He did not resemble his mother in any particular, if he was the son of Mrs. Holt.  He was above the average man in height, having broad, rather stooping shoulders, dark hair and eyes.  He stopped at the gate and stood a few seconds looking at them, so they could not very well study him closely, then he went up the walk with loose, easy stride and entered the house.

“Yes, that is her son,” said Kate.  “That is exactly the way a man enters a house that belongs to him.”

“That isn’t the way I am going to enter my house,” said Adam.  “Now what shall we do?”

“Rest half an hour while they talk it over, and then get ready to go very deliberately.  If she doesn’t come across, literally and figuratively, we hunt another boarding place.”