"Very possibly," said the Disagreeable Woman, not at all excited.
"Do you mind telling us how old you are?"
"Not at all! I have reached the age—"
All bent forward to listen. Why is it that we take so much interest in the ages of our acquaintances? There was evidently a strong desire to learn the age of the Disagreeable Woman. But she disappointed the general expectation.
"I have reached the age of discretion," she continued, finishing the sentence.
"Who is that woman?" I asked my next neighbor, for I was a new comer at Mrs. Gray's table.
"Wait till after breakfast and I will tell you," he answered.
Mrs. Gray kept a large boarding-house on Waverley Place. Some fifteen boarders were gathered about the large table. I may have occasion to refer to some of them later. But first I will speak of myself.
I was a young medical practitioner, who after practising for a year in a Jersey village had come to New York in quest of a metropolitan practise and reputation. I was not quite penniless, having five hundred dollars left over from the legacy of an old aunt, the rest of which had been used to defray the expenses of my education. I had not yet come to realize how small a sum this was for a professional start in the city. I had hired an office, provided with a cabinet bedstead, and thus saved room rent. For table board I had been referred to Mrs. Gray's boarding-house, on Waverley Place.