I was patrolling my veranda half an hour later, when I heard steps and then voices on the walk opposite, and back they came. It is a woman’s way, I reflected, to make all the advances; and this young wife had captured the runaway and talked him into good humor. A moment later they were seated beside the table in the living-room, and so disposed that the lamp did not obscure them from each other. She was reading aloud, and occasionally glanced up, whether to make sure of his attention or to comment upon the book I did not know; and when it occurred to me that it was neither dignified nor decent to watch my neighbors through their window, I went indoors and wrote several pages of notes for a chapter which I now felt must be written, on “Bungalow Shadows.” Manderson was the name; Banzai made sure of this at the grocer’s. As I took the air of the lane the next morning before breakfast, I saw that the Redmonds were a different sort. Redmond, a big fellow, with a loud voice, was bidding his wife and child good-by. The youngster toddled after him, the wife ran after the child, and there was much laughter. They all stopped to inspect me, and Redmond introduced himself and shook hands, with the baby clutching his knees. He presented me to his wife, and they cordially welcomed me to the lane to the baby’s cooing accompaniment. They restored me to confidence in the bungalow type; no doubt of the Redmonds being the real thing! III The lady of the brown bungalow was, however, far more attractive than her sister of the red one, and the Mandersons as a family were far more appealing than the Redmonds. My note-book filled with memoranda touching the ways and manners of the Mandersons, and most of these, I must confess, related to Mrs. Manderson. She was exactly the type I sought, the veritable _dea ex machina_ of the bungalow world. She lived a good deal on her veranda, and as I had established a writing-table on mine I was able to add constantly to my notes by the mere lifting of my eyes. I excused my impudence in watching her on scientific grounds. She was no more to me than a new bird to an ornithologist, or a strange plant to a botanist.