"Not like it! Not like Tamawaca!" Wilder's voice was sad and reproachful. "My dear boy, _everybody_ likes Tamawaca. You can't help liking it. Come, I'll show you the charms of our little heaven upon earth, and at the same time you shall examine lovely 'Lake View.'" During this conversation a little group of people had been gathering a few paces behind Wilder, all with anxious faces but a diffidence about interrupting him. Wilder noted this group and excused himself from Jarrod for a moment. "Yes, Mrs. Jones," he said, in his earnest, winning tones, "give me your baggage checks and I'll have the trunks up to your cottage in a jiffy. Certainly, Miss Vanderslop, I'll be glad to telephone for you--no trouble at all! Here, William," to his clerk in the grocery, "cash this check for Mr. Chambers. What's that, Mrs. Harringford? the bread sour? Too bad, dear girl, too bad! But accidents will sometimes happen. William, give Mrs. Harringford her money back; the bread's sour. What is it, Mr. Harden? Gasoline stove won't work? I'll have a man up to fix it in half an hour; don't worry, dear boy; half an hour at the latest. _Good_ morning, Mrs. Still! here are the keys to your cottage. I've had the women clean it and put it in order and it's all ready for you to walk into and sit down. No trouble at all--no thanks--glad to be of use to you. What is it, my little man? a note from mamma? Ah, yes; tell her it will give me great delight to reserve a berth for her on tomorrow night's boat. And now, Mr. Jarrod, I'm at your service." "You seem to be a busy man," said Jarrod, with a smile. "Usually I am," replied Wilder, mopping his forehead; "but there's not much doing this morning; it's too early in the season; I'm resting up for the busy days coming. Let us walk over to the Lake front, and I'll astonish you with the beauty of our fairyland." So Jarrod, leaving his family to be entertained by Mrs. Wilder, who seemed an eminently fitting spouse for her cheery husband, followed this modern Poo-Bah along a broad cement walk that led past the hotel and through a shady grove. There were cottages on every side, clustered all too thickly to be very enticing, but neatly built and pleasant enough for a summer's outing. A few paces more brought them to a magnificent view of the great inland sea, and soon they emerged upon a broad beach lapped by the rolling waves of grand old Michigan. Jarrod's eyes sparkled. It _was_ beautiful at this point, he was forced to admit, and the cool breath of the breeze that swept over the waters sent an exhilarating vigor to the bottom of his lungs and brought a sudden glow to his cheek. Along the lake front was another row of pretty cottages, running north and south for a distance of half a mile or more. At frequent intervals an avenue led from the beach back into the splendid forest, where, Wilder explained, were many more cottages hidden among the trees.