It is entirely the proper, kindly thing to do; if Eleanore had not done it, she would not be a Villager, and the Village would have none of her.
[Illustration: MACDOUGAL ALLEY.] It may be further remarked that, if you should go upstairs to Eleanore's studio, you would find that she takes the presence on the couch as calmly as though it were a bundle of laundry.

She is in no sense disconcerted by the occasional snore that wakes the midnight echoes.

She works peacefully on at the black-and-white poster which she is going to submit tomorrow.

She does not resent Dickey at all.
Neither does she watch his slumbers tenderly nor hover over him in the approved manner.

Eleanore is not the least bit sentimental,--few Villagers are.