"Won't you step in?"
She ushered Andy into a small reception room opening from the hall. It was a very small room, provided with a sofa, one chair and a writing desk. Just over the sofa hung an engraving of Washington crossing the Delaware.
Andy sat down on the sofa and placed his gripsack in front of him. There was nothing to occupy his mind, so he sat patiently, wondering what sort of a looking woman the landlady might be.
Soon there was a rustle of garments, and a stout, pleasant-looking lady, of perhaps fifty, wearing a small cap set off with red ribbons, entered the room.
"Mrs. Norris?" said Andy, inquiringly, rising out of respect.
"Yes, I am Mrs. Norris. Eva told me you had a letter from Mr.—I didn't catch the name."
"Mr. Walter Gale."
"Oh, yes, Mr. Gale. I know him very well."
"Did he ever board here?"
"No; he boarded at one of the hotels. Mr. Gale is a rich man."