There is nothing, I believe, more infectious than that species of nervousness which shows itself in superstitious fears.  I began—­although I could not bring myself to admit anything the least like it—­to partake insensibly, but strongly of the peculiar feelings with which my wife, and indeed my whole household, already regarded the lodger up stairs.  The fact was, beside, that the state of my poor wife’s mind began to make me seriously uneasy; and, although I was fully sensible of the pecuniary and other advantages attendant upon his stay, they were yet far from outweighing the constant gloom and frequent misery in which the protracted sojourn was involving my once cheerful house.  I resolved, therefore, at whatever monetary sacrifice, to put an end to these commotions; and, after several debates with my wife, in which the subject was, as usual, turned in all its possible and impossible bearings, we agreed that, deducting a fair proportion for his five weeks’ sojourn, I should return the remainder of his L100, and request immediate possession of his apartments.  Like a man suddenly relieved of an insufferable load, and breathing freely once more, I instantly prepared to carry into effect the result of our deliberations.

In pursuance of this resolution, I waited upon Mr. Smith.  This time my call was made in the morning, somewhere about nine o’clock.  He received me at his door, standing as usual in the stealthy opening which barely admitted his lank person.  There he stood, fully equipped with goggles and respirator, and swathed, rather than dressed, in his puckered black garments.

As he did not seem disposed to invite me into his apartment, although I had announced my visit as one of business, I was obliged to open my errand where I stood; and after a great deal of fumbling and muttering, I contrived to place before him distinctly the resolution to which I had come.

“But I can’t think of taking back any portion of the sum I have paid you,” said he, with a cool, dry emphasis.

“Your reluctance to do so, Mr. Smith, is most handsome, and I assure you, appreciated,” I replied.  “It is very generous; but, at the same time, it is quite impossible for me to accept what I have no right to take, and I must beg of you not to mention that part of the subject again.”

“And why should I take it?” demanded Mr. Smith.

“Because you have paid this hundred pounds for six months, and you are leaving me with nearly five months of the term still unexpired,” I replied.  “I expect to receive fair play myself, and always give it.”

“But who on earth said that I was going away so soon?” pursued Mr. Smith, in the same dry, sarcastic key. “I have not said so—­because I really don’t intend it; I mean to stay here to the last day of the six months for which I have paid you.  I have no notion of vacating my hired lodgings, simply because you say, go.  I shan’t quarrel with you—­I never quarrel with anybody.  I’m as much your friend as ever; but, without the least wish to disoblige, I can’t do this, positively I cannot.  Is there anything else?”