"But we can’t," returned Mr. Monell. "What, entice a fellow into a room like this"—and he cast a hearty admiring glance round the apartment which, for all its simplicity, both its warm coloring and general air of cosiness amply merited—"and then turn a cold shoulder upon him when he humbly entreats the honor of staying a single night in the enjoyment of its attractions? No, no, Mrs. Belden; I know you too well for that. Lazarus himself couldn’t come to your door and be turned away; much less a good-hearted, clever-headed young gentleman like my friend here."
"You are very good," she began, an almost weak love of praise showing itself for a moment in her eyes; "but I have no room prepared. I have been house-cleaning, and everything is topsy-turvy Mrs. Wright, now, over the way"
"My young friend is going to stop here," Mr. Monell broke in, with frank positiveness. "If I cannot have him at my own house,—and for certain reasons it is not advisable,—I shall at least have the satisfaction of knowing he is in the charge of the best housekeeper in R———."
"Yes," I put in, but without too great a show of interest; "I should be sorry, once introduced here, to be obliged to go elsewhere."
The troubled eye wavered away from us to the door.
"I was never called inhospitable," she commenced; "but everything in such disorder. What time would you like to come?"
"I was in hopes I might remain now," I replied; "I have some letters to write, and ask nothing better than for leave to sit here and write them."
At the word letters I saw her hand go to her pocket in a movement which must have been involuntary, for
