Rose gave a little unsophisticated "Oh!" of admiration for the Parisian beauty; and when the detective held out the box and doll to Poppet, as a peace offering, she had not the heart to deny the child the possession of such a treasure.
The little girl, lost in joy, clasped the glorious beauty to her bosom; and Gaylor's appealing, dimpled smile chased all animosity from the breasts of father and mother. It was true, as he said, he had acted in the pursuance of duty, and he did appear to be a kind-hearted, agreeable young fellow. He was enchanted with Poppet's pleasure, and vowed again that this time he had no "ulterior motives." He was so engaging and boyish, that Rose offered him tea, and both she and Tom enjoyed the chat into which he drew them, without their knowing that they had been drawn. He told the Barnards that he would have to remain in the country for some time, very likely till the inquest came on again, and asked their advice, in a simple, friendly way, as to lodgings. At present he was staying in the village inn, but it was hardly worthy the name of inn, and he was not very comfortable. Where would Mrs. Barnard advise him to apply?
Rose mentioned several cottages where lodgers were occasionally taken in the summer, but there was some objection to each one, the most desirable rooms being already occupied. At last, when the list was exhausted, Gaylor ventured: "I suppose you couldn't possibly
