Thus it was that this man and this woman came to think of each other. And now you are guessing that this thinking of each other advanced into a warmer interest--that these two people fell in love if they were not too far gone in years for such nonsense. Well for us all that there are hearts that are never too old for the sweet nonsense--the nonsense that is more sensible than half the philosophy of the sages. Your guess is so good that I should feel chagrined if I were one of those writers who delight in mysteries and in surprising the reader. But my highest aim is to tell a straight-forward story, so I acknowledge the guess correct, so far, at least, as my Susan is concerned. I have said that the romance in her nature died hard; but it never died at all. This man, this almost stranger, was rousing it as warmth and light stir the sleeping asphodels of spring. The foolish Susan came to think of Mr. Falconer whenever she made her toilet--to thrill at every sight of him and at his lightest word. But this was not till after many other meetings and interviews than those this story has recorded. As Mr. Falconer was frequently at the house which Susan built, and as this was less than a block removed from the one she occupied, there naturally occurred many a chance meeting, when some significant glance or word would send Susan's heart searching for its meaning. And these chance meetings were not all. "Who was it that called, Susie?" Gertrude asked one evening when her sister came up from a half-hour's interview with some one in the parlor. "The gentleman who rents my house," Susan replied, her face turned from Gertrude. "What is he for ever coming here for?" "He came to tell me that there were some screws loose in a door-hinge," Susan answered. "For pity's sake!" exclaimed Gertrude. "That's a great thing to come bothering about! Why didn't he get a screw-driver and screw up the screws?" "It's my place to keep the house in order," said Susan. "The report of things out of order usually sets landlords in a feaze, but you keep as serene as the moon with your tenant's complaints. He's always finding something out of order, which seems strange, considering that the house is brand-new." Not many days after Gertrude had occasion to repeat her question to Susan: "Who was it called?" She received the reply she was expecting: "The man who rents my house." "Indeed! What's the matter now? another screw loose?" Gertrude asked. "He wanted to suggest an alteration in the pantry." "Why, he's for ever wanting alterations made! I don't see how you can be so patient with his criticisms: we all know you are house-proud. I wouldn't listen to that man: he'll ruin your house with his improvements. I don't know, anyhow, what he can mean by saying in one breath that it is a perfect house, and in the next asking for an alteration." "I'm sure I don't know," said Susan; and then her heart went into a happy wondering as to what Mr. Falconer could mean.