“Yes, ma’am,” testily replied that person.
“I am pleased to meet you, sir,” exclaimed the melancholy individual, as he extended a hand so cold and clammy that shivers ran up and down the back of the host when he took it gingerly. “We are having fine tragedy weather, sir!”
“A fire at once, landlord!” commanded the would-be beau.
“Refreshments will be in order!” exclaimed she of the trim ankles.
“And show me the best room in the house,” remarked her sister.
Mine host, bewildered by this shower of requests, stared from one to the other in helpless confusion, but finally collected his wits sufficiently to usher the company into the tap-room with:
“Here you’ll find a fire, but as for the best room, this gentleman”––indicating the reticent guest––“already occupies it.”
The young man at the fire, thus forced prominently into notice, arose slowly.
“You are mistaken, landlord,” he said curtly, hardly glancing at the players. “I no longer occupy it since these ladies have come.”