“I suppose that is the housekeeper,” thought Ben.
“Very well,” he answered. “I believe I will come in, as Mrs. Hamilton wrote me to come.”
Ben left his bag in the front hall, and with his hat in his hand followed the servant into the handsomely-furnished drawing room.
“I wish Mrs. Hamilton had been here,” he said to himself. “The girl seems to look at me suspiciously. I hope the housekeeper knows about my coming.”
Ben sat down in an easy-chair beside a marble-topped center table, and waited for fifteen minutes before anyone appeared. He beguiled the time by looking over a handsomely illustrated book of views, but presently the door was pushed open and he looked up.
The newcomer was a spare, pale-faced woman, with a querulous expression, who stared coldly at our hero. It was clear that she was not glad to see him. “What can I do for you, young man?” she asked in a repellent tone.
“What a disagreeable-looking woman!” thought Ben. “I am sure we shall never be friends.”
“Is Mrs. Hamilton expected in soon?” he asked.
“I really cannot say. She does not report to me how long she expects to be gone.”
“Didn’t she speak to you about expecting me?” asked Ben, feeling decidedly uncomfortable.
“Not a word!” was the reply.
“She wrote to me to come here, but perhaps she did not expect me so soon.”
“If you have come here to collect a bill, or with any business errand, I can attend to you. I am Mrs. Hamilton’s cousin.”
“Thank you; it will be necessary for me to see Mrs. Hamilton.”
“Then you may as well call in the afternoon, or some other day.”
“That’s pretty cool!” thought Ben. “That woman wants to get me out of the house, but I propose to ‘hold the fort’ till Mrs. Hamilton arrives.”
“I thought you might know that I am going to stay here,” said Ben.
“What!” exclaimed Mrs. Hill, in genuine surprise.
“Mrs. Hamilton has offered me a position, though I do not know what the duties are to be, and am going to make my home here.”
“Really this is too much!” said the pale-faced lady sternly. “Here, Conrad!” she called, going to the door.
A third party made his appearance on the scene, a boy who looked so much like Mrs. Hill that it was clear she was his mother. He was two inches taller than Ben, but looked pale and flabby.
“What’s wanted, ma?” he said, staring at Ben.
“This young man has made a strange mistake. He says Mrs. Hamilton has sent for him and that he is going to live here.
“He’s got cheek,” exclaimed Conrad, continuing to stare at Ben.
“Tell him he’d better go!”
“You’d better go!” said the boy, like a parrot.
“Thank you,” returned Ben, provoked, “but I mean to stay.”
“Go and call a policeman, Conrad,” said Mrs. Hill. “We’ll see what he’ll have to say then.”