“I see,” responded the girl, with sudden interest. “Do you think you would be suited with the accommodations we have to offer?”
“Ah, my dear miss!” he exclaimed, with a broad smile. “I am an old campaigner. I have slept gypsy-fashion under the stars many and many a night. A straw pallet has often been my lot. Indeed, I am naturally simple of taste and habit.”
He said all this with an air as though entirely different demands might reasonably be expected of such as he. He evidently had a very good opinion of himself.
Lyddy did not much care for his appearance; but he was respectably–if strikingly–dressed, and he was perfectly respectful.
“I will show you what we have,” said Lyddy, and rose and accompanied him through the house.
“You do not let any of the rooms in the east wing?” he asked, finally.
“No, sir. Neither upstairs nor down. We probably shall not disturb those rooms at all.”
Finally they talked terms. The stranger seemed to forget all his scruples about doing business on Sunday, for he was a hard bargainer. As a result he obtained from Lyddy quite as good accommodations as Mrs. Castle had–and for two dollars less per week.
Not until they had come downstairs did Lyddy think to ask him his name.
“And one not unknown to fame, my dear young lady,” he said, drawing out his cardcase. “Famous in more than one field of effort, too–as you may see.