"I tink it vas King Solomon," she said.
"Why, that was just it," said Hope. "You must have seen King Solomon, Clarice. It was only King Solomon; don't be afraid. I thought we had the hole well plugged up, but he must have made another one."
"You forget," interrupted Louisa, laughing softly.
"Oh, that's so!" exclaimed Hope. "We took the soap out and used it this morning because we didn't have any other."
"And who's King Solomon, and what's that to do with soap?" demanded Clarice, raising herself upon her elbow to the edge of the bed with a faint show of interest.
"King Solomon," explained Hope soberly, "is a friend who comes to visit us occasionally, and generally packs off what happens to be in sight. We named him King Solomon—not because of his solemn demeanor, but for reason of his taking ways, and propensity toward feminine apparel."
"What are you talking about, Hope? I do believe this terrible place has gone to your head! What makes all the noise in that other room?"
Mrs. Van Rensselaer seemed extremely nervous.
"That's the men coming in to their supper," replied Hope. "I think you must have been nervous before you saw the rat. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you came, Clarice!"
"And so that horrible thing I saw was a rat!"