CHAPTER XXXII.
For some time back, then be it said, various strollers unfamiliar with the neighbors or the neighborhood of Kennedy Square, poor benighted folk who knew nothing of the events set down in the preceding chapters, had nodded knowingly to each other or shaken their pates deprecatingly over the passing of "another old landmark." Some of these had gone so far as to say that the cause could be found in the fact that Lawyer Temple had run through what little money his father and grandmother had left him; additional wise-acres were of the opinion that some out-of-town folks had bought the place and were trying to prop it up so it wouldn't tumble into the street, while one, more facetious than the others, had claimed that it was no wonder it was falling down, since the only new thing Temple had put upon it was a heavy mortgage.
The immediate neighbors, however,--the friends of the house--had smiled and passed on.

They had no such forebodings.

On the contrary nothing so diverting--nothing so enchanting--had happened around Kennedy Square in years.

In fact, when one of these humorists began speaking about it, every listener heard the story in a broad grin.

Some of the more hilarious even nudged each other in the waist-coats and ordered another round of toddies--for two or three, or even five, if there were that number of enthusiasts about the club tables.