'Yes. You'd be surprised! Humphrey's put in hardwood and electricity and things. He's really a wonderful person. Did the wiring himself. And the water pipes. You ought to see his books--and his shop downstairs. He's an inventor, you know. Going to be. Don't you think for a minute that he's just a country editor. That's just while he's feeling his way. Oh, Hump's a smart fellow. Mighty decent of him to take me in that way, too; because he's busy and I know he'd rather live alone. You see, he's quiet and orderly about things, and I--well, I'm different.' 'Offhand,' mused Mrs Henderson, 'I shouldn't suspect Humphrey Weaver of temperament. But tell me--how on earth do you live? Who cooks and cleans up?' 'Well, Hump gets breakfast and--and we'll probably take turns cleaning up.' 'You remember Humphrey Weaver, Corinne,' the little hostess breezed on. 'You've met him. Tall, thin, face wrinkles up when he smiles or speaks to you.' She added, as if musing aloud, 'He _has_ nice eyes.' Then, to Henry: 'But do you mean to say that so fascinating a man as that lives undiscovered, right under our noses, in this bourgeois town.' Henry was rather vague about the meaning of 'bourgeois,' but he nodded gravely. 'You must bring him down here, Henry. I can't imagine what I've been thinking of to overlook him. Tell you what, we'll have a little rabbit to-morrow night. We four. We'll devote an evening to drawing Mr Humphrey Weaver out of his shell.' Her quick eyes caught a doubtful look in Corinne's eyes. 'Oh,' she said, 'we did speak of letting Will and Fred take us in town, didn't we?' Corinne nodded. It seemed to Henry that he ought to take the situation in hand. As regarded his relations with Humphrey he was sailing under false colours. Among his confused thoughts he sought, gropingly, a way out. The speech he did make was clumsy. 'I don't know whether I could make him come. He likes to read evenings, or work in his shop.' Mrs Henderson took this in, then let her eyes rest a moment, thoughtfully, on Henry's ingenuous countenance. An intent look crept into her eyes. 'Do you mean that you two sweep and make beds and wash dishes and dust?' 'Well'--Henry's voice faltered--'you see, I haven't been--I just moved over there yesterday afternoon.' 'Hm!' There was a bright, flash in Mrs Henderson's eyes. She chuckled abruptly. It was a sharp little chuckle that had the force of an interruption. 'I'd like to see the corners of those rooms. There ought to be some woman that could take care of you.' She turned again on Henry. 'Be sure and bring him down to-morrow. Come in about six for a picnic supper. Or no--let me think----'