Carroll was tall and slender, with light brown hair and deep-set blue eyes. His clean-shaven face was rather deeply lined for a man of his years; there was something of the air of a student about him. But when he spoke it was in the crisp, incisive tones of an executive. A second glance at his eyes discovered hints of reserve strength. Serving an exacting man had not destroyed his independence and self-respect. On the whole a person who knew what he was about, endowed with brains and not easily to be trampled upon or driven. “You mustn’t let Bud fool you about our home town. Most anything he says is bound to be wrong; it’s temperamental with him. But you know him of old; I needn’t tell you what a scoundrel he is.” “Certainly not! You can’t room with a man for four years without knowing all his weaknesses.” “Yes, I certainly know all yours,” Henderson retorted. “But he isn’t a bad fellow, Arthur. We must marry him off and settle him in life. I already see several good chances to plant him.” “You’d better let Maybelle do that,” replied Carroll. “Your judgment in such delicate matters can’t be trusted.” “Perhaps I’d better leave the room while you make a choice for me,” said Bruce. “What would you think of Leila Mills as a fitting mate for him?” asked Henderson. “Excellent,” Carroll affirmed. “It’s about time Leila was married. You’ve met Miss Mills, haven’t you, Storrs?” “Yes; several times,” said Bruce. He suspected Bud of turning the conversation upon Leila merely to gratify his passion for gossip. “Of course you’ve got the first call, Arthur,” said Henderson with cheerful impudence. “The town is getting impatient waiting for you to show your hand.” “I’m sorry to keep my fellow citizens waiting,” Carroll replied. “Of course there are always Miss Mills’s wishes to consider.” “Oh, well, there _is_ that! Bruce, with his known affection for the arts, may prefer the lovely Millicent. He’s not worth troubling about as a competitor. Well, I must skip back to Maybelle! Wait till I get downstairs before you begin knocking me!” “Don’t be in a rush,” said Bruce. “Oh, I’ll go now!” said Bud as he lounged out. “I want you to have plenty of time to skin me properly!” “Bud’s a mighty good fellow,” said Carroll when they were alone. “He and Maybelle give a real tang to our social affairs. I suppose we have Bud to thank for bringing you here.” “Oh, not altogether!” Bruce replied. “I was alone in the world and my home town hadn’t much to offer an architect.” “Your profession does need room. I was born right here and expect to be buried among my ancestors. Let me see--did I hear that you’re from the East?” The question on its face was courteously perfunctory; Mills would certainly not have done anything so clumsy, Bruce reflected, as to send Carroll to probe into his history. “I’m an Ohioan--born in Laconia,” he replied.