Turning his head, Dick recognized Mr. and Mrs. Clifton. Both had been fellow-boarders with him in Bleecker Street. The latter will be remembered by the readers of "Fame and Fortune" as Miss Peyton. When close upon the verge of old-maidenhood she had been married, for the sake of a few thousand dollars which she possessed, by Mr. Clifton, a clerk on a small salary, in constant pecuniary difficulties. With a portion of his wife's money he had purchased a partnership in a dry-goods store on Eighth Avenue; but the remainder of her money Mrs. Clifton had been prudent enough to have settled upon herself.
Mrs. Clifton still wore the same ringlets, and exhibited the same youthful vivacity which had characterized her when an inmate of Mrs. Browning's boarding-house, and only owned to being twenty-four, though she looked full ten years older.
"How d'e do, Hunter?" drawled Mr. Clifton, upon whose arm his wife was leaning.
"Very well, thank you," said Dick. "I see Mrs. Clifton is as fascinating as ever."
"O you wicked flatterer!" said Mrs. Clifton, shaking her ringlets, and tapping Dick on the shoulder with her fan. "And here is Mr. Fosdick too, I declare. How do you do, Mr. Fosdick?"
"Quite well, thank you, Mrs. Clifton."
"I declare I've a great mind to scold you for not coming round to see us. I should so much like to hear you sing again."
"My friend hasn't sung since your marriage, Mrs. Clifton," said Dick. "He took it very much to heart. I don't think he has forgiven Clifton yet for cutting him out."
"Mr. Hunter is speaking for himself," said Fosdick, smiling. "He has sung as little as I have."
"Yes, but for another reason," said Dick. "I did not think it right to run the risk of driving away the boarders; so, out of regard to my landlady, I repressed my natural tendency to warble."