Paul passed the discomfited housekeeper, and, going upstairs, followed the old lady into a pleasant sitting room.
“I am sorry to have been the means of disturbing you,” said Paul, politely. “Mrs. Holbrook sends you this letter, and wishes me to give you her love.”
“You are a nice looking boy,” said the old lady, letting her glance rest approvingly on Number 91. “I hope Louisa is well.”
“Very well, thank you.”
She put on her glasses, and read the letter.
“So you are Paul Parton,” she said, as she folded up the letter.
“Yes, madam.”
“A New York boy?”
“Yes, madam.”