"Pardon me," said the lawyer, a little stiffly; "my name is Jarrod."
"Of course—of course!" cried Wilder, unabashed. "Nora, my dear, help me to welcome our good friends the Jarrods, that Dr. Brush has written us about. How nice to see you at last in lovely Tamawaca! And the children will have the time of their lives; and Mrs. Jarrod will be delighted with our swell society—nothing sweller in all Michigan, I assure you!"
"It's awfully nice to see you here," added Mrs. Wilder, as smiling and cheerful as her mate. "Won't you come into the bazaar and sit down for awhile? Perhaps Mr. Jarrod has some business to talk over with my husband."
"Yes," said Jarrod, as his wife and children trooped after the pleasant little lady into the roomy and well-stocked bazaar; "I want to enquire about Grant's cottage. He says you have the rental of it."
Wilder's face fell, and his merry expression gave way to one of absolute despair.
"Dear me!" he exclaimed, as if deeply distressed; "how very unfortunate. Grant's cottage was rented only last evening. How sad that I did not know you wanted it!"
"But there are others, of course," suggested Jarrod, after a moment's thought.
"Let—me—see," mused Wilder, reflectively. "There's the Stakes place—but that's rented; and Kimball's is gone, too; and Smith's, and Johnson's, and McGraw's—all rented and occupied. My dear boy, I'm afraid you're up against it. There isn't a cottage left in Tamawaca to rent! But never mind; you shall stay with me—you and the wife and the dear little ones. I live over the grocery, you know—really swell apartments. You shall stay there as my guests, and you'll be very welcome, I assure you."
"Oh, I can't do that, Wilder," said Jarrod, much annoyed. They had strolled, by this time, to the porch of the grocery and bazaar—a long building facing the bay on one side and the hotel on the other. It had wide porches set with tables for the convenience of consumers of ice-cream sodas. Inside, the building was divided into the meat market, the grocery and the bazaar, all opening on to the same porch.
Jarrod sat down at one of the tables, feeling homeless and despondent. He had eaten a dreadful breakfast in Kochton, an hour before, and it hadn't agreed with him. Through the open door of the bazaar he beheld Mrs. Wilder talking earnestly with his wife. She had given his little girl a large and expensive doll to hold and his little boy a full-rigged toy sail-boat to play with.