When I told her about Miss Burton she sat down in a chair near by and laughed heartily.
"It is wonderfully funny," she said, "that you should have met those two young ladies and should then have stopped here."
"You know them?" I said, promptly taking another chair.
"Oh yes," she answered. "I know them both; and, as I have mentioned that your meeting with them seemed funny to me, I suppose I ought to tell you the reason. Some time ago a photographer in Walford, who has taken a portrait of me and also of Miss Putney and Miss Burton, took it into his head to print the three on one card and expose them for sale with a ridiculous inscription under them. This created a great deal of talk, and Miss Putney made the photographer destroy his negative and all the cards he had on hand. After that we were talked about as a trio, and, I expect, a good deal of fun was made of us. And now it seems a little odd—does it not?—that you have become acquainted with all the members of this trio as soon as you left Walford. But I must not keep you in this way." And she rose.
Now was my opportunity to make known my desire to be kept, but before I could do so the boy hurriedly came into the room.
"The Dago wants to see you," he said. "He's in an awful hurry."
"Excuse me," said Mrs. Chester. "It is that Italian who was singing outside last night. I thought he had gone. Would you mind waiting a few minutes?"
It was getting harder and harder to enunciate my proposition to make a sojourn at the inn. I wished that I had spoken sooner. It is so much easier to do things promptly.
While I was waiting the elderly woman came in. "Do you want the boy to take your little bag out and strap it on?" said she.
Evidently there was no want of desire to speed the departing guest. "Oh, I will attend to that myself," said I, but I made no step to do it. When my hostess came back I wanted to be there.