But there were other times when something in the asking face or voice touched one knew not what chord in the good lady's breast. On these occasions she could be very gracious, and would say, perhaps, that she really didn't know, she didn't take boarders--mebbe--just this once--if't would accommodate--she didn't know--but she might compass it somehow, and the door would be opened wide; and, once inside, the guest was sure to be made so comfortable that he was loth to go away again. The fact was, that being clothed with means, as they say in the village, the Lady of the Inn felt that it was merely a matter of personal fancy, the taking in of guests, and that if she were not in the mood for visitors there was no manner of reason why she should be bothered with them. She had one servant, a grim elder, by name Ira Goodwin. The spiteful people before alluded to said that Ira--or Iry, to give the name its actual pronunciation--and his mistress never spoke to each other, but communicated by means of signs. That could not be true, however, for Mrs. Peake, next door, had been shaking a carpet in her yard one day, close by the fence, and had heard Iry say, in a growling manner, "Guess I can hold my tongue as well as others!" To which Miss Bethesda's crisp tones replied: "You'd better, for the outside of your head does you more credit than the inside!" Thus Miss Bethesda Pool lived in solitude for the most part, and content with her lot; and no breeze ruffled the still waters of her life. It was very peaceful to be alone there in the great rambling Inn, and hear no sound save the purring of the yellow cat, and the drip of the water from the roofs. The roofs all leaked in the Inn, whenever there was a possible chance for leaking, and the walls were covered with strange patterns and hieroglyphics that were not included in the design of the wall-paper. It happened one day that Miss Bethesda Pool was sitting in her own comfortable room, toeing off a stocking, and thinking of many things, when she heard a knock at the door. She took no notice of the first summons, for she found that in many cases the knocker, after one, or at most two, trials, was apt to go away, which saved a world of trouble, and showed that he had no business that amounted to anything, anyhow. But this was a persistent knocker, who kept on with a timid yet steady "rat-tat-tat--" till Miss Bethesda concluded that, whoever it was, he had not sense enough to know when he wasn't wanted, and that she must answer the knock. She folded her knitting deliberately, and after examining the draughts of the stove, and stroking the yellow cat two or three times, she went to the door, holding her chin a little high, and looking, if the truth must be told, rather uncompromising.