When she returned she found the stranger seated at the foot of the staircase.
"And what do you propose to do for me?" he asked patiently.
There was no mistaking the genial manner. Mrs. Benbow was conquered.
"I propose to fry some eggs and bacon for your supper," she said cheerily. "And then I propose to make your bedroom ready."
"Sensible woman!" he said, as he followed her into the parlor, where a fire was burning brightly. He threw himself into the easychair, and immediately experienced that sensation of repose and thankfulness which comes over us when we have found a haven. There he rested, content with himself and his surroundings. The fire lit up his face, and showed him to be a man of about forty years.
There was nothing especially remarkable about him. The face in repose was sad and thoughtful; and yet when he discovered a yellow cat sleeping under the table, he smiled as though some great pleasure had come into his life.
"Come along, little comrade!" he said, as he captured her. She looked up into his face so frankly that the stranger was much impressed. "Why, I do believe you are a dog undergoing a cat incarnation," he continued. "What qualities did you lack when you were a dog, I wonder? Perhaps you did not steal sufficiently well; perhaps you had net cultivated restfulness. And your name? Your name shall be Gamboge. I think that is a suitable appellation for you--certainly more suitable than most of the names thrust upon unoffending humanity. My own name, for instance, Hieronymus! Ah, you may well mew! You are a thoroughly sensible creature."
So he amused himself until Mrs. Benbow came with his supper. Then he pointed to the cat and said quietly:
"That is a very companionable dog of yours."
Mrs. Benbow darted a look of suspicion at the stranger.