“Theophilus, my love, may I pass you the salt?”
“Yes, my dear.”
Occasionally, that is, as often as opportunity offered, they would press each other’s hands under the table, the pressure being accompanied by a languishing look, which nearly upset the gravity of Mr. Ingalls, who, in his endeavors to suppress his merriment, once came so near choking that he had to leave the table.
On the other side of Mr. Ingalls sat an actor at one of the city theatres, with his wife. He seldom engaged in general conversation, but spoke in low tones to his wife. Whether this sprang from natural reserve, or from his mind being preoccupied with his business, opinion was divided; but the natural consequence was that he was unpopular.
There were several other boarders, who will be referred to in due time. Among them may be mentioned Alphonso Jones, a man of thirty, whose seedy attire would seem to indicate limited means, but who lost no opportunity of boasting of his aristocratic connections, and his intimacy with the best society.
Mr. Ingalls was the first to notice his young neighbor. Mrs. White had introduced Gilbert to his right and left hand neighbor, but left him to make acquaintance with the rest as he could.
“Have you been long in the city, Mr. Greyson?” he asked.
“No,” said Gilbert, “but a few days.”
“I suppose you are on business?”
“I am in a broker’s office on Wall Street.”