The morning following the arrival of the Tracys was bright and beautiful as summer mornings are apt to be after a heavy rain. There was no sign of the storm which had swept so fiercely over the hills the previous night except in the delicious coolness of the air, the muddy street and the few pools of water still standing upon the walk. Craig, who was never a very good sleeper, had heard every sound in the usually quiet house. It had been nine o’clock before the Tracys had divested themselves of their wet garments and were ready for their supper, which, in spite of Mrs. Taylor’s protestations that every thing was spoiled, they enjoyed immensely. Helen was in high spirits and knew she was going to enjoy herself, everything was so funny and clean. She had made friends with Mrs. Taylor by praising her supper, and won Uncle Zacheus’ heart by looking into his face with her beautiful eyes as she squeezed his hand and said, “My dear good man, you don’t know how glad I am to be here.” “He don’t know whether he’s on foot or on horseback, that girl has so upset him,” Mrs. Taylor said, as she hurried from the salon to the kitchen, and the kitchen to the salon, occasionally administering a sharp reproof to Jeff, who was dodging round corners, and again whispering to Sarah, the waitress, to keep her wits about her and be sure and pass things to the left instead of the right. Craig’s room was in the north hall, which communicated with the west at right angles, but he could hear the clatter of feet on the stairs, the sound of talking and laughter in the hall, the running of water in the bathroom, until he began to wonder if they would empty the reservoir and leave nothing for his morning bath. There were calls for Celine to open a trunk, or bring a bag, or a wrap left below, and then at last the final good-nights were said, the doors shut and quiet reigned in the house. “I can’t imagine why I am so restless when I have been in so many noisy hotels and never minded them,” Craig thought as he stepped out of bed to see what time it was. “Only eleven, I thought it must be midnight,” he said, going to the window and looking out into the night.