Luke followed the old lady up the broad, handsome staircase, stealing a curious glance at an elegantly-furnished drawing-room, the door of which opened into the hall.
His companion led the way into the front room on the second floor.
"Remain here until I have taken off my things," she said.
Luke seated himself in a luxurious armchair.
He looked about him and wondered how it would seem to live in such luxury. He had little time for thought, for in less than five minutes Mrs. Merton made her appearance.
"You have not yet told me your name," she said.
"Luke Walton."
"That's a good name—I am Mrs. Merton."
"I noticed that the servant called you so," said Luke.
"Yes; I am a widow. My married niece lives here with me. She is also a widow, with one son, Harold. I think he might be about your age. Her name is Tracy. You wonder why I give you all these particulars? I see you do. It is because I mean to keep up our acquaintance."