Early the next morning, without disturbing the sleep of Walter Lodloe, Lanigan Beam descended from the tower, carrying his valise.  His face wore that air of gravity which sometimes follows an early morning hour of earnest reflection, and he had substituted a black cravat for the blue one with white spots that he had worn on his arrival.

Walking out towards the barn he met Mr. Petter, who was one of the earliest risers on the place.

The greeting given him by the landlord of the Squirrel Inn was a mixture of surprise, cordiality, and annoyance.

“Lanigan Beam!” he exclaimed.  “Why, I thought ­”

“Of course you did; I understand,” said the other, extending his hand with a dignified superiority to momentary excitement in others.  “You thought I would arrive at Lethbury in a day or two, and had no idea of seeing me here.  You have reason, but I have changed my plans.  I left New York earlier than I intended, and I am not going to Lethbury at all.  At least not to the hotel there.  I greatly prefer this house.”

A shade of decided trouble came over Mr. Petter’s face.

“Now, Lanigan,” he said, “that will not do at all; of course I don’t want to be hard on you, and I never was, but my season is commenced, I have my guests, my rules are in full force, and I cannot permit you to come here and disarrange my arrangements.  If for once, Lanigan, you will take the trouble to think, you will see that for yourself.”

“Mr. Petter,” said the younger man, setting his valise upon the ground, “I have no desire to disarrange them; on the contrary, I would stamp them with fixity.  And before we go any further I beg that you be kind enough not to call me by my Christian name, and to endeavor to produce in yourself the conviction that since you last saw me I have been entirely rearranged and reconstructed.  In order to do this, you have only to think of me as you used to think, and then exactly reverse your opinion.  In this way you will get a true view of my present character.  It does not suit me to do things partially, or by degrees, and I am now exactly the opposite of what I used to be.  By keeping this in mind any one who knew me before may consider himself or herself perfectly acquainted with me now.”

Stephen Petter looked at him doubtfully.

“Of course,” he said, “I shall be very glad ­and so will Mrs. Petter ­to find that you have reformed, but as to your coming here ­”

“Now, then,” said Mr. Beam, “I know you are not the man to allow trifles to stand in the way of important movements.  I am here for a purpose, a great purpose, with which you will be in entire sympathy.  I will say at once, frankly and openly, that my object is the improvement of Lethbury.  I have a project which ­”

“Now, now, now!” exclaimed Mr. Petter, with much irritation, “I don’t want to hear anything more of any of your projects; I know all about them.  They all begin with a demand for money from your friends, and that is the end of the project and the money.”

“Stephen Petter,” said the other, “you are not looking at my character as I told you to look at it.  Every cent of the capital required for my operations I will contribute myself.  No one will be allowed to subscribe any money whatever.  This, you see, is exactly the opposite of what used to be the case; and when I tell you that the success of my plan will improve the business of Lethbury, elevate its moral and intellectual standard, exercise an ennobling and purifying influence upon the tone of its society, and give an almost incredible impetus to faith, hope, and charity in its moral atmosphere, ­and all that without anybody’s being asked to give a copper, ­I know you will agree with me that a mere matter of residence should not be allowed to block this great work.”

Since he had been assured that he was not to be asked to contribute money, Mr. Petter’s face had shown relief and interest; but now he shook his head.

“This is my season,” he said, “and I have my rules.”

Lanigan Beam laid his hand upon the shoulder of his companion.

“Petter,” said he, “I don’t ask you to infract your rules.  That would be against my every principle.  I do not know the Rockmores of Germantown, but if it were necessary I would immediately go and find them, and make their acquaintance ­I should have no difficulty in doing it, I assure you, but it is not necessary.  I staid last night with Mr. Lodloe, who occupies the top room of your tower.  Don’t jump out of your boots.  I went to him because there was a light in his room and the rest of the house was dark, and he explained to me the Rockmorial reason why he occupies that room while the rest of your house is nearly empty.  Now you can do the same thing for me.  Let me have that upper room with no stairway to it; give me the use of a ladder, and I shall be perfectly satisfied.”

“But the room’s not furnished,” said Mr. Petter.

“Oh, we can easily get over that little difficulty,” replied Mr. Beam; “whatever furniture may be needed can easily be put in through the window.  If there are any wasps up there I can fumigate them out.  Now we call that settled, don’t we?  None of your rules broken, Lethbury regenerated, and nothing for you to do but look on and profit.”

Mr. Petter gazed reflectively upon the ground.

“There can be no doubt,” said he, “that Lethbury is in a stagnant condition, and if that condition could be improved, it would be for the benefit of us all; and considering, furthermore, that if your project ­which you have not yet explained to me ­should be unsuccessful, no one but yourself will lose any money, I see no reason why I should interfere with your showing the people of this neighborhood that your character has been reconstructed.  But if you should lodge in that room, it would make a very odd condition of things.  I should then have but three male guests, and not one of them literally living in my house.”

“Ah, my good friend Petter,” said Lanigan, taking up his valise, “you should know there is luck in odd conditions, as well as in odd numbers, and everything will turn out right, you may bet on that.  Hello,” he continued, stepping back a little, “who is that very pretty girl with a book in her hand?  That cannot be Mrs. Cristie.”

“Oh, no,” said Mr. Petter, “that is her maid, who takes care of her child.  I think the young woman has come out to study before beginning her daily duties.”

“Upon my word,” said Lanigan Beam, attentively regarding Miss Ida Mayberry as she daintily made her way across the dewy lawn to a rustic seat under a tree.  And then, suddenly turning to Mr. Petter, he said: 

“Look you, my good Stephen, can’t you let me go in somewhere and furbish myself up a little before breakfast?”

And having been shown into a room on the ground floor, Mr. Beam immediately proceeded to take off his black cravat and to replace it by the blue one with white spots.