"Oh, you naughty flatterer!" said the widow, graciously. "Not that I believe you. Men are such deceivers."
"Do ladies never deceive?"
"You ought to have been a lawyer, you ask such pointed questions. Really, Dr. Fenwick, I am quite afraid of you."
"There's no occasion. I am quite harmless, I do assure you. The time to be afraid of me is when you call me in as a physician."
"Excuse me, doctor, but Mrs. Gray is about to make an announcement."
We both turned our glances upon the landlady.
CHAPTER VI. COUNT PENELLI.
Mrs. Gray was a lady of the old school. She was the widow of a merchant supposed to be rich, and in the days of her magnificence had lived in a large mansion on Fourteenth Street, and kept her carriage. When her husband died suddenly of apoplexy his fortune melted away, and she found herself possessed of expensive tastes, and a pittance of two thousand dollars.