“Put your hat down,” said the old lady. “What sort of a journey did you have?”
“Very fair, thanks,” said Ronald, depositing his hat on the floor beside him, “in fact I believe we came over uncommonly quick for the time of year. How is”–
“What steamer did you come by?” interrupted Miss Schenectady.
“The Gallia. She is one of the Cunarders. But as I was going to ask”–
“Yes, an old boat, I expect. So you came on right away from New York without stopping?”
“Exactly,” answered Ronald. “I took the first train. The fact is, I was so anxious–so very anxious to”–
“What hotel are you at here?” inquired Miss Schenectady, without letting him finish.
“Brunswick. How is Miss Thorn?” Ronald succeeded at last in putting the question he so greatly longed to ask–the only one, he supposed, which would cause a message to be sent to Joe announcing his arrival.
“Joe? She is pretty well. I expect she will be down in a minute. Are you going to stay some while, Mr. Surbiton?”
Ronald thought Miss Schenectady the most pitiless old woman he had ever met. In reality she had not the most remote intention of being anything but hospitable. But her idea of hospitality at a first meeting seemed to consist chiefly in exhibiting a great and inquisitive interest in the individual she wished to welcome. Besides, Joe would probably come down when she was ready, and so it was necessary to talk in the mean time. At last Ronald succeeded in asking another question.