“I was told that another man would take the house in half an hour if I did not.”
“Brentbone was the man. He was terribly disappointed, for he had set his heart upon having the house. He is an old friend of mine, and still wants it. He is willing to give you a hundred dollars bonus for the house, and pay all the bills for the furniture.”
“I am much obliged to him for his liberal offer, but I must decline it,” I replied, firmly, for I could not think of leaving the English basement house, when I was just beginning to realize the joys of home.
“Are you mad, Paley?”
“Not just now.”
“You can’t afford to live there. Your mother-in-law will board you at half the rate it will cost you to live in this house.”
Upon my word, it looked more and more as if Captain Halliard was in league with “dear ma.”
I hate mysteries, and I may as well explain the facts as I afterwards discovered them. Mr. Brentbone was a man of considerable means, who had just married a second wife. The house in Needham Street pleased him, and, too late, he found that it pleased his wife even more. He was acquainted with Mr. Oliphant and with my uncle. When he ascertained who had taken the house, he went to see Mrs. Oliphant, but this was about the time I moved in, and “dear ma” was too indignant to mention the subject to me, though I remembered that she had suggested the idea of selling out the furniture and giving up the lease.
As we had moved in, Brentbone gave up his purpose, and tried to find a house elsewhere. Failing to suit himself, he again turned his attention to the house in Needham Street, and spoke to my uncle about it. Captain Halliard was probably startled to find I was living in a house which would satisfy a person of Brentbone’s means. The matter was left in my uncle’s hands for negotiation. He assured the would-be purchaser that there would be no difficulty in completing the arrangement. All this Brentbone told me himself in self-defence, a few weeks later, when I made his acquaintance.