Andy took a general view of it, and thought he should take it. To his country eyes it looked quite aristocratic. It was higher than any house in Arden, even Squire Carter's.

 

He ascended the steps and rang the bell.

 

It was answered by a Swedish girl named Eva, a blond girl of the true Scandinavian type.

 

"Is Mrs. Norris at home?" he asked.

 

"She is upstairs," was the reply.

 

"I should like to see her."

 

"Who shall I tell her calls?"

 

"She won't know my name. Tell her it is some one with a letter from Mr. Walter Gale."

 

"Won't you step in?"

 

She ushered Andy into a small reception room opening from the hall. It was a very small room, provided with a sofa, one chair and a writing desk. Just over the sofa hung an engraving of Washington crossing the Delaware.

 

Andy sat down on the sofa and placed his gripsack in front of him. There was nothing to occupy his mind, so he sat patiently, wondering what sort of a looking woman the landlady might be.

 

Soon there was a rustle of garments, and a stout, pleasant-looking lady, of perhaps fifty, wearing a small cap set off with red ribbons, entered the room.

 

"Mrs. Norris?" said Andy, inquiringly, rising out of respect.

 

"Yes, I am Mrs. Norris. Eva told me you had a letter from Mr.--I didn't catch the name."

 

"Mr. Walter Gale."

 

"Oh, yes, Mr. Gale. I know him very well."

 

"Did he ever board here?"

 

"No; he boarded at one of the hotels. Mr. Gale is a rich man."

 

She took the letter and read it.

 

"Mr. Gale asks if I can take you to board, and offers to pay your board. He must be a great friend of yours?"

 

"He is. I hope the arrangement will be satisfactory."

 

"Quite so. I couldn't wish any better paymaster than Mr. Gale. Are you going to work in the city?"

 

"Yes. I have a place in Mr. Flint's jewelry store on Union Square."

 

"Really? That is quite a high-toned place. I got my best spoons there."

 

"Have you got a room for me?" asked Andy, a little anxiously.

 

"Yes, I've got a small hall bedroom. I suppose you didn't expect a square room?"

 

"It would be too expensive."

 

"It wouldn't be if you had a roommate. There's a gentleman on the third floor front, a Mr. Warren. He is sickly, and writes for some of the papers. He told me he would like a roommate; but perhaps you would prefer a small room alone?"

 

"I should."

 

"Then I've a small room on the same floor. It was occupied till last week by a music teacher, but he was three weeks behind in his rent and I had to let him go. It's a trying business, keeping a boarding house, Mr.--"

 

"Grant," suggested Andy.

 

"Yes. That's a good name. I suppose you're in nowise related to the general?"

 

"No; I wish I was."

 

"If you will follow me upstairs I'll show you the room. You can bring your valise."

 

Andy took it in his hand and followed the landlady up two flights of stairs. She panted a little, being a stout lady, but Andy would have run upstairs if he had been alone.

 

On the upper floor there were three rooms, the doors of all being open.

 

"That is Mr. Warren's room," said Mrs. Norris, pointing to the front apartment.

 

It was a room of about fourteen feet square, and was neatly furnished. It contained a double bed and the usual chamber furniture.

 

"It will accommodate two gentlemen nicely," said Mrs. Norris. "Perhaps, after you get acquainted with Mr. Warren, you may strike up a bargain to room with him."

 

"I don't think I should like to room with a sickly gentleman."

 

"Well, there is something in that. One night Mr. Warren had a fit--I don't know what kind of one--and rolled onto the floor. I room just underneath, and I was very much frightened."

 

"It would have frightened me, too, if I had roomed with him."

 

"Well, fits ain't very pleasant, I allow."

 

"Who rooms in the third room, next to mine?"

............