"What shall I do?" I asked, willing to profit by the old lady's knowledge, while I abhorred her principles.
"I keep boarders myself; and I only charge 'em four dollars a week. I don't take none for a week or two; but I'll take you, after what's happened, at the same price. You can save six or seven dollars in this way."
"I thank you, Mrs. Whippleton. I'm very much obliged to you, and will go to your house."
I was really relieved by this friendly offer, for I did not like to go to a hotel among total strangers. Whatever Mrs. Whippleton was morally could not affect me as a boarder for a brief period, while the saving of expense was a great item to me. When the train arrived at Chicago, the old lady gathered up her bundles, with my assistance, and we walked to her house, which was at a considerable distance from the station. The dwelling was a large, plain house. I found that it was furnished in a very cheap style. The landlady called a servant girl, who conducted me to a small room over the entry, in which there was a narrow bed. It did not compare favorably with my quarters at Mrs. Greenough's, but I thought I could stand it for a week. When I went down stairs, I was invited to tea with the old lady. I came to the conclusion that the boarders in the house paid full price for all they had, for the butter was very strong, and the dishes were not particularly clean.
Before we had finished our supper, Mr. Charles Whippleton was announced. He came into the room where the old lady was sipping her tea, and after casting a sharp look at me, he threw himself into a large rocking-chair, which was evidently kept for the especial use of his mother. He was well dressed, and after I had heard so much about the man, I scrutinized his features quite closely. I was not favorably impressed, for there was an expression of sharpness and cunning in his face which did not suit me. Mrs. Whippleton did not take the trouble to introduce me.
"Got home, mother?" said he, without wasting any of his breath in affectionate terms.
"I have, thank fortin; but I didn't expect to get home."
"Why, what's the matter now?" demanded the dutiful son, whose question implied that something was always the matter.
Mrs. Whippleton informed him what was the matter now, including a detailed account of her grievances. To my surprise, the affectionate son informed her that she was an old fool, glancing at me, as though, after a day's experience with his maternal parent, I ought to be able to confirm his rash statement in the fullest manner.
I prudently held my peace.