window."

There was a faint stir as of some consternation in the little company.
The elderly ladies stopped talking abruptly and exchanged glances,
though this was not of my observation at the moment, I think, but
recurred to my consciousness later, when I had perceived my blunder.

"May I ask who lives there?" I pursued.

Miss Apperthwaite allowed her noticeable lashes to cover her eyes for an
instant, then looked up again.

"A Mr. Beasley," she said.

"Not the Honorable David Beasley!" I exclaimed.

"Yes," she returned, with a certain gravity which I afterward wished had
checked me. "Do you know him?"

"Not in person," I explained. "You see, I've written a good deal about
him. I was with the "Spencerville Journal" until a few days ago, and
even in the country we know who's who in politics over the state.
Beasley's the man that went to Congress and never made a speech--never
made even a motion to adjourn--but got everything his district wanted.
There's talk of him now for Governor."

"Indeed?"

"And so it's the Honorable David Beasley who lives in that splendid
place. How curious that is!"