Wyeth. "He may bring a college friend with him. You have met Samuel,
haven't you, Mary?"

Mary said that she had. She was a trifle embarrassed at the prospect of
meeting Sam Keith in her new surroundings. At home, in South Harniss,
they had met many times, but always at the store. He was pleasant
and jolly and she liked him well enough, although she had refused his
invitations to go on sailing parties and the like. She knew perfectly
well that his mother and sister would not have approved of these
invitations, for in the feminine Keith mind there was a great gulf fixed
between the summer resident and the native. The latter was to be helped
and improved but not encouraged socially beyond a certain point. Mary
sought neither help nor improvement of that kind. Sam, it is true, had
never condescended or patronized, but he had never called at her home
nor had she been asked to visit his.

And now she was to meet him in a house where she was considered one of
the family. His father had been influential in bringing her there. Did
Sam know this and, if he did, what influence would the knowledge have
upon his manner toward her? Would he be lofty and condescending or, on
the other hand, would he pretend a familiar acquaintanceship which did
not exist? Alone in her room she considered these questions and then put
them from her mind. Whatever his manner might be, hers, she determined,
should be what it had always been. And if any embarrassment was evident
to others at this meeting it should not be on her part.

When she came downstairs, Mrs. Wyeth called to her to come into the
parlor. As she entered the room two young men rose from the chairs
beside the mahogany center table. One of these young men was Sam Keith;
she had expected to see Sam, of course. But the other--the other was the