Susan Clegg had dwelt alone ever since her father's death. She had not been unhappy in dwelling alone, although she had been a good daughter as long as she had a parent to live with. When the parent departed, and indeed some few days before his going, there had arisen a kind of a question as to the possibility of a life-companion for the daughter who must inevitably be left orphaned and lonely before long. The question had arisen in a way highly characteristic of Miss Clegg and had been disposed of in the same manner.[A] The fact is that Miss Clegg had herself proposed to four men and been refused four times. Then her father had died, and, upon the discovery that he was better endowed with worldly wealth than folks had generally supposed, all four had hastened to bring a return suit at once. But Miss Clegg had also had her mind altered by the new discovery and refused them all. From that time to this period of which I am about to write there had never been any further question in her mind as to the non-advisability of having a man in the house. [A] See "Susan Clegg and her Friend Mrs. Lathrop." "As far as I can see," she said confidentially to her friend, Mrs. Lathrop, who lived next door, "men are not what they are cracked up to be. There ain't but one woman as looks happy in this whole community and that's Mrs. Sperrit, an' she looks so happy that at first glance she looks full as much like a fool as anythin'. The minister's wife don't look happy,--she looks a deal more like somethin' a cat finds an' lugs home for you to brush up,--an' goodness knows Mrs. Fisher don't look happy an' she ain't happy neither, for she told me herself yesterday as since Mr. Fisher had got this new idea of developin' his chest with Japanese Jimmy Jig-songs, an' takin' a cold plunge in the slop jar every mornin', that life hadn't been worth livin' for the wall paper in her room. She ain't got no sympathy with chest developin' an' Japanese jiggin' an' she says only to think how proud she was to marry the prize boy at school an' look at what's come of it. She asked me if I hear about his goin' to town the other day an' buyin' a book on how to make your hair grow by pullin' it out as fast as it comes in, an' then gettin' on the train, an' gettin' to readin' on to how to make your eyebrows grow by pullin' them out, too, an' not noticin' that they'd unhooked his car an' left it behind, until it got too dark to read any further--" "Why, what--" cried Mrs. Lathrop, who was the best of listeners, and never interjectional except under the highest possible pressure of curiosity.