Mr. Bray fell in with the boarder project, as we have seen, with enthusiasm. Although he could do nothing as yet, his mind was active enough and he gaily planned with 'Phemie what they should do and how they should arrange the rooms for the horde of visitors who were, they were sure, already on their way to Hillcrest. "Though Lyd won't show the very first letter she's received in answer to our ad.," complained the younger sister. "What's the matter with those folks, Lyddy? Do they actually live right there near where we did on Trimble Avenue?" "That was a loft building next to us," said their father, curiously. "Who are the people, daughter?" "Somebody by the name of Colesworth. The Commonwealth Chemical Company office. It's about an old man to stay here." "One man only!" exclaimed 'Phemie. "With a young man--the one who writes--to come up over Sundays, I suppose," acknowledged Lyddy, doubtfully. "Goody!" cried her sister. "_That_ sounds better." "Aren't you ashamed of yourself, 'Phemie!" chided Lyddy, with some asperity. But Mr. Bray only laughed. "I guess I can play 'he-chaperon' for all the young men who come here," he said. "Your sister is only making fun, Lydia." But Lyddy was more worried in secret about the Colesworth proposition than she was ready to acknowledge. She "just felt" that Harris Colesworth was the young man who had helped them the evening of the fire in the Trimble Avenue tenement. "He found out our name, of course, and when he saw my advertisement he knew who it was. He may even have found out where we were going when we left for the country. In some way he could have done so," thought Lyddy, putting the young man's character before her mind in the very worst possible light. "He is altogether too persistent. I hope he is as energetic in a better way--I hope he attends to his business as faithfully as he seems to attend to _our_ affairs," continued Lyddy, bitterly. "I don't suppose this idea of his father coming up here into the hills is entirely an excuse for him to become familiar with--with _us_. But it looks very much like it. I--I wonder what kind of a man old Mr. Colesworth can be?" Lyddy ruminated upon the letter she had received all that day and refused to answer it right away. Indeed, as far as she could see, the letter did not really need an answer. This Harris Colesworth spoke just as though he expected they would be only too glad to meet him on Saturday with a rig. "And, if it were anybody else, I suppose I would be glad to do so," Lyddy finally had to admit. "I suppose that 'beggars mustn't be choosers'; and if this Harris Colesworth isn't a perfectly proper young man to have about, father will very quickly attend to _his_ case."