“About three dollars and a half for young men, and ten dollars for a man and his wife.”

“If we could get four married couples for the four rooms, that would be forty dollars a week, which would be pretty good,” said Mary, warming at the thought.

“Yes, if we could, Mary, we might manage pretty well.  But most married people have children, and they are such an annoyance that I wouldn’t have them in the house.  We will have to depend mainly on the young men.”

It was, probably, three weeks after this, that an advertisement, running thus, appeared in one of the newspapers: 

“BOARDING—­Five or six genteel young men, or a few gentlemen and their wives, can be accommodated with boarding at No.—­Cedar street.  Terms moderate.”

In the course of the following day, a man called and asked the terms for himself and wife.

“Ten dollars,” said Mrs. Turner.

“That’s too high—­is it not?” remarked the man.

“We cannot take you for less.”

“Have you a pleasant room vacant?”

“You can have your choice of the finest in the house?”

“Can I look at them, madam?”

“Certainly, sir.”  And the stranger was taken through Mrs. Turner’s beautifully furnished chambers.

“Well, this is certainly a temptation,” said the man, pausing and looking around the front chamber on the second floor.  “And you have named your lowest terms?”

“Yes, sir; the lowest.”

“Well, it’s higher than I’ve been paying, but this looks too comfortable.  I suppose we will have to strike a bargain.”

“Shall be pleased to accommodate you, sir.”

“We will come, then, to-morrow morning.”

“Very well, sir.”  And the stranger departed.

“So much for a beginning,” said Mrs. Turner, evidently gratified.  “He seems to be much of a gentleman.  If his wife is like him, they will make things very agreeable I am sure.”

“I hope she is,” said Mary.

On the next morning, the new boarders made their appearance, and the lady proved as affable and as interesting as the husband.

“I always pay quarterly.  This is the custom in all the boarding houses I have been in.  But if your rules are otherwise, why just say so.  It makes no difference to me,” remarked the new boarder, in the blandest manner imaginable.

“Just suit yourself about that, Mr. Cameron.  It is altogether immaterial,” Mrs. Turner replied, smiling.  “I am in no particular want of money.”

Mr. Cameron bowed lower, and smiled more blandly, if possible, than before.

“You have just opened a boarding house, I suppose, madam?” he said.

“Yes sir, I am a new beginner at the business.”

“Ah—­well, I must try and make you known all I can.  You will find Mrs. Cameron, here, a sociable kind of a woman.  And if I can serve you at any time, be sure to command me.”