"Don't you sing, Mr. Hunter?" asked the young lady.
"I aint much on warblin'," said Dick, forgetting for the moment where he was.
This droll answer, which Miss Peyton supposed to be intentionally funny, convulsed the young lady with merriment.
"Perhaps your friend sings?" she said.
Thereupon Fosdick was also introduced. To Dick's astonishment, he answered that he did a little. It was accordingly proposed that they should enter the next room, where there was a piano. The young lady played some well-known melodies, and Fosdick accompanied her with his voice, which proved to be quite sweet and melodious.
"You are quite an acquisition to our circle," said Miss Peyton, graciously. "Have you boarded in this neighborhood before?"
"No," said Fosdick; "at another part of the city."
He was afraid she would ask him in what street, but fortunately she forbore.
In about half an hour the boys went up to their own room, where they lighted the gas, and, opening their trunks, placed the contents in the bureau-drawers.
"Blessed if it don't seem strange," said Dick, "for a feller brought up as I have been to live in this style. I wonder what Miss Peyton would have said if she had known what I had been."