“Well, fits ain’t very pleasant, I allow.”

“Who rooms in the third room, next to mine?”

“A young man of eighteen, named Perkins.  I don’t rightly know what sort of a place he is in.  I think it’s a neckwear store on Spring Street.”

Andy was rather glad to learn that there was one boarder somewhere near his own age.

He did not think he should enjoy the acquaintance of Mr. Warren.  He was prejudiced against him by the knowledge that he was sickly and had fits.

“There are other boarders on my second floor.  You will make their acquaintance at the table.”

“What are your hours for meals, Mrs. Norris?”

“We have lunch from twelve to one.  Breakfast is from seven to nine, and we have dinner from six to seven, though in the case of a boarder who is kept later by business we stretch a point, and try to accommodate him.  I hope that will suit you.”

“Oh, I am sure it will.”

“Shall you be at lunch to-day?”

“No, I don’t think so.  I am going to explore the city a little.”

“Very few of my boarders are present at lunch.  Still there is a bite for them, if they do come.”

“I would like to wash, if you will send up some water and a towel.”

“Eva will bring them right up.  Have you soap of your own?”

“Yes.”

“Gentlemen often prefer providing their own.  If you will give me your name in full, I will enter it on my books.”

“My name is Andrew Grant.”

“Very well.”

“What is your rate of board?  Mr. Gale will pay it, but I should like to know what it is.”

“Five dollars a week for your room.  Mr. Warren pays seven, but he has a large room to himself.  If you should decide to room with him, I shall charge you five dollars apiece.”

“Thank you; I don’t think we shall come to any agreement.”

She went downstairs, and Andy surveyed his room with interest.

It was certainly small—­quite the narrowest room he had ever seen.  There was one window from which he had a view of the back yard, rather a forlorn-looking space.  There was a cat perched on the high, board fence separating the yard from that of the adjoining house.

Andy liked cats, and called out “Pussy.”  The cat looked up, and mewed her recognition and acknowledgment of the friendly overture.  Then Eva came up with a pitcher of water and a towel.

“Will one do you?” she asked.  “The rest are in the wash, and I’ll bring you another this evening.”

“One will be sufficient for the present.”

“So you’re comin’ here to live?” she said, sociably.

“Yes, Eva.”

“I hope you don’t have fits, like Mr. Warren.”

“I don’t think I ever had one yet,” answered Andy, with a smile.

“I’m glad of that.  I’m afraid of gentlemen that have fits.”

Eva went downstairs, and Andy proceeded to make his ablutions.  It was a dusty day, and the water was refreshing.