“The dinner-hour is six, I believe.”
“Yes, sir. The bell will ring at that time.”
Gilbert understood that he was expected to remain in his room till dinner-time. That, however, would have been his choice.
He followed the servant to a small hall-bedroom on the third floor, where he found his trunk awaiting him. He opened it, and, taking out his comb and brush, and a clean collar, made his dinner toilet. A new life had opened before him, and he could not help wondering what it would be like. In the midst of his meditations came the sound of the bell, and he went downstairs.
Mr. Briggs was already present.
“Well,” said he, stiffly, “so you found your way here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you see Mrs. Briggs?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And how have you spent the day?”