The blond lady stepped forward and took up the word in her sweet foreign voice.
"Ah, it will be such a kindness, and we are most easy to bear, I hope you will find."
"Yes, as my aunt says, you will not find us hard to suit; we can put up with a few inconveniences, if necessary. Might we look at your rooms?"
These were found to be so neat and cheerful—in spite of low roofs and small windows—that a bargain was quickly consummated; and having planned with Miss Zeba for a dinner in half an hour, the young man turned to his little guide.
"Now," said he, with the fun leaping to his eyes again, "now for the ordeal! Will you conduct me to this Diogenes of a gunner, and have him tell you, without a lantern, whether I am the man he is looking for, or no?"
"Yes, we'll go," said Morton in a matter-of-fact tone; "but I don't think he's looking for you. He never goes a-nigh the post-office, because he says he hates a crowd; so even if you'd written some one that you were coming, he wouldn't know it."
"Ah, yes, I see; we will take him entirely by surprise, then; well, 'lead on Macduff!'"
"My name's Morton Olmstead, if you please, sir."
"And a good name too, laddie; I like it, and what's more I like you!
You're going to make a fine man some day, did you know it?"
Morton's eyes kindled.