There was a certain something in Mrs. Darlington’s tone of voice that Scragg understood to mean a fixed purpose.  Moreover, his mind caught at the idea of getting boarded for something less than sixteen dollars a week.

“Where are the rooms?” he asked gruffly.

“The third story chambers.”

“Front?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to go to the third story.”

“Very well.  Then you can have the back chamber down stairs, and the front chamber above.”

“What will be your charge?”

“Fourteen dollars.”

“That will do, Peter,” said Mrs. Scragg.  “Two dollars a week is considerable abatement.”

“It’s something, of course.  But I don’t like this off and on kind of business.  When I make an agreement, I’m up to the mark, and expect the same from everybody else.  Will you let my wife see the rooms, madam?”

“Certainly,” replied Mrs. Darlington, and moved towards the door.  Mrs. Scragg followed, and so did all the juvenile Scraggs—­the latter springing up the stairs with the agility of apes and the noise of a dozen rude schoolboys just freed from the terror of rod and ferule.

The rooms suited Mrs. Scragg very well—­at least such was her report to her husband—­and, after some further rudeness on the part of Mr. Scragg, and an effort to beat Mrs. Darlington down to twelve dollars a week, were taken, and forthwith occupied.

CHAPTER IV.

Mrs. Darlington was a woman of refinement herself, and had been used to the society of refined persons.  She was, naturally enough, shocked at the coarseness and brutality of Mr. Scragg, and, ere an hour went by, in despair at the unmannerly rudeness of the children, the oldest a stout, vulgar-looking boy, who went racing and rummaging about the house from the garret to the cellar.  For a long time after her exciting interview with Mr. Scragg, she sat weeping and trembling in her own room, with Edith by her side, who sought earnestly to comfort and encourage her.

“Oh, Edith!” she sobbed, “to think that we should be humbled to this!”

“Necessity has forced us into our present unhappy position, mother,” replied Edith.  “Let us meet its difficulties with as brave hearts as possible.”

“I shall never be able to treat that dreadful man with even common civility,” said Mrs. Darlington.

“We have accepted him as our guest, mother, and it will be our duty to make all as pleasant and comfortable as possible.  We will have to bear much, I see—­much beyond what I had anticipated.”

Mrs. Darlington sighed deeply as she replied—­

“Yes, yes, Edith.  Ah, the thought makes me miserable!”

“No more of that sweet drawing together in our own dear home circle,” remarked Edith, sadly.