"May I come up?" he signaled, and mounted two steps at a time, keen interest in his thin, intellectual face.
"Is it really headache, or is it revolution?" he asked without preface. "Morton and I have been longing to know, all the evening."
"Revolution," said the twins.
"How very interesting! Do you know, we came to-night just to see if you would be there. You—you staggered us, the other evening. We were glad when you didn't appear—if you won't misunderstand. It is so unexpected, in this environment. I shall be curious to see how far you can carry it out." He was leaning against the banister, looking at them as if they were abstract propositions rather than young girls, and they felt unwontedly at ease.
"To the very end," Dora asserted. "We begin teaching Monday, and—and we have to find a place to board." Her color rose a little, but she smiled.
"That is plucky," he commented. "We can help you there; I know a number of places. When do you want to move?"
"To-morrow," they answered in unison.
He consulted an engagement-book, reflected a few moments, then made a note.
"Morton or I will call for you to-morrow at three," he announced with business-like brevity. "I think I know just the place, but we will give you a choice. If you really wish to move in at once, you could have your things packed, ready to be sent for."
"Oh, we do!" said Cora. He glanced meditatively at their fine and glowing faces.