"You haven't told me," she resumed, shooting a glance of keen distrust, "exactly what your business may be."
"I am in the sugar line," responded Will.
"Sugar? You wouldn't mind giving me the name of your employers?"
The word so rasped on Warburton's sensitive temper that he seemed about to speak angrily. This the woman observed, and added at once:
"I don't doubt but that you're quite respectable, sir, but you can understand as I have to be careful who I take into my house."
"I understand that, but I must ask you to be satisfied with a reference to my present landlord. That, and a month's payment in advance, ought to suffice."
Evidently it did, for Mrs. Wick, after shooting one or two more of her sharpest looks, declared herself willing to enter into discussion of details. He required attendance, did he? Well it all depended upon what sort of attendance he expected; if he wanted cooking at late hours.—Warburton cut short these anticipatory objections, and made known that his wants were few and simple: plain breakfast at eight o'clock, cold supper on the table when he came home, a mid-day meal on Sundays, and the keeping of his rooms in order; that was all. After morose reflection, Mrs. Wick put her demand for rooms and service at a pound a week, but to this Warburton demurred. It cost him agonies to debate such a matter; but, as he knew very well, the price was excessive for unfurnished lodgings, and need constrained him. He offered fifteen shillings, and said he would call for Mrs. Wick's decision on the morrow. The landlady allowed him to go to the foot of the stairs, then stopped him.
"I wouldn't mind taking fifteen shillings," she said, "if I knew it was for a permanency."
"I can't bind myself more than by the month."
"Would you be willing to leave a deposit?"