"Good-evening!" he said abruptly. "The fact is, I've called in to ask you to send in some furniture suitable for a dog's—I mean a boy's bedroom. There are four boys; the rascals—I mean the young fellows—are coming to stay with me. I want a room furnished—you'd better send a man round to look at it—the usual things, of course. Send in the furniture to-morrow. Good-evening!"
"But I beg your pardon, Mr. Danvers," said the perplexed shopman, "your order is a little vague; you have not told me what class of furniture you require."
Danvers took off his hat, and pushed up his red hair perfectly straight.
"Simple, very," he said; "no luxuries, a bed apiece, some basins and jugs; you know the sort of thing. I am in a hurry. I will wish you 'good-evening!'"
"We have got some nice iron bedsteads," began Mr. Franks, "neat and plain. I suppose carpets will be required. If you will have the goodness to step this way, sir——"
Here the shopman started, for Danvers had vanished.
"Well," he said, turning to one of his men, "if this aint a rum start! Here's our Mr. Danvers ordering in furniture, promiscuous like, and four young gentlemen are going to live with him. You tot up a tidy lot of things, Blake, and let me know what the sum total comes to; four boys, he says, and they are to be provided for simple. What does this mean?"
The assistant ran off with a laugh, and that evening a good-sized bill was entered against Mr. Danvers' name in Frank's book.
That good little man returned to his home, and after supper took out his account books. He looked carefully into his banking account, found that there stood to his credit about one hundred and fifty pounds in the local bank, wondered vaguely what all the furniture would cost, perceived that he could pay for it, and then dismissed the subject from his mind. He sat up late over his translation of Cæsar, and did excellent work. He forgot all about the boys, and slept soundly when he went to bed. On returning to his house the next day at noon, the circumstance of their speedy advent was brought painfully home to him, however. A large furniture van stood outside his modest door. Danvers kept no servant, and the men were getting impatient at having to pull the bell in vain; a crowd of small boys and girls were collected around the van, and several neighbors were poking their heads out of the adjacent windows. Danvers felt a sudden thrill run through him. He opened the door abruptly, and told the men to take the things upstairs.
"To what room, sir?" they asked.