expected to derive therefrom. I had been looking forward to rambling about at will, and ruminating upon the improvements I would make, and the probable aspect of the completed house. I had not even looked for Mr. Berrith’s company. And now — a girl was added, my solitude divided, my perplexity multiplied, and my enjoyment subtracted, in this, my first problem in Berrithmetic. It was only natural, perhaps, that my next remark should have verged upon the idiotic.
“I am a single man, Miss Berrith.”
“I assure you, I didn’t take you for twins,” she replied with what I thought most uncalled for levity. “You needn’t explain, Mr. Sands; we’ve heard all about you from the agent. You seem to have been very frank with him.”
I had. I realized it with a qualm of uneasiness, and found myself wondering how much of my conversation the imbecile had seen fit to repeat.
“You are a confirmed bachelor?” continued
