A singular and mysterious change had now taken place. Chapman no longer got up quarrels with his neighbors. Indeed, he had a good word to say whenever he met Titus Bright. He could shake hands with Doctor Critchel, and agree with the Dominie on matters of religion. In fine, if he was everybody's enemy before, he was now everybody's friend. He admired the Dutch for their honesty and true-heartedness. This singular change gave the gossips of the town something to talk about for a week. The Chapmans and the Toodleburgs were now the very best of friends. Chapman could be seen of an evening sitting in Hanz's little ivy-covered porch, enjoying a pot of ale. And Hanz had been seen smoking his pipe in Chapman's garden. All this meant something, the gossips said, and something of great importance. Where two such men got their heads together, and pipes and ale were called in, there was sure to be something deep going on. Hanz Toodleburg, they said, never smoked his pipe with a man like Chapman but that there was something in the wind. Then Mrs. Chapman and her gushing, blue-eyed daughter had condescended to visit at Toodleburg's, and could make themselves quite agreeable at Angeline's tea-table. And then Angeline, good, kind Angeline, with her face still bright with gentleness and love, was always so happy When Mattie called. Then there was something so simple, so frank and straightforward in Mattie's nature. Angeline could not help loving her. And the affection she cherished for Tite, who was the idol of her thoughts, strengthened the ties of their love. "We have not forgot you, you see," said Mrs. Chapman, as she bowed herself into Toodleburg's little house one evening. "We expected company at home to-night, but says I to my dear husband, 'you know, my dear husband,' (here Mrs. Chapman bowed to her dear husband, who had followed her,) 'we have been promising so long to visit Mr. and Mrs. Toodleburg.'" Angeline bowed and invited her visitors to be seated, while Hanz gave Chapman a hearty shake of the hand, and an assurance that no man was more welcome under his roof. "Always glad to see mine friends," said Hanz. "You shall take seats, and be shust so much at home as you is in your own house." And he drew one big chair up for Chapman, and another for Mrs. Chapman. "Peoples always makes themselves at home in mine house." "You must excuse our humble little place," Angeline said; "we are plain, every-day people." And she made Mrs. Chapman a low courtesy, as that stout, bustling woman, apparently overcome with the heat, settled her solid circumference into a chair. "Dear a me," rejoined Mrs. Chapman, "what happy people you ought to be. Everything so comfortable round you, you know, and all your own. What a blessing to have things all your own." Here Mrs. Chapman raised her bonnet carefully and used it as a fan.