“I beg your pardon,” said Paul, “I told you this, and you said Mrs. Granville had a headache, and would not see me.” “What do you mean by this misrepresentation, Mrs. Mercer?” demanded the old lady, sternly. “I offered to take the letter up to you,” said Mrs. Mercer, a little alarmed at the evident anger of her mistress. “When Mrs. Granville reads the letter she will understand why I preferred to hand it to her myself.” “Why did you say I had a headache? Why do you presume to send away my visitors, Mrs. Mercer?” demanded the old lady, thoroughly aroused. “I meant it for the best,” said the woman, sulkily. “Never presume so far again. Now, young man, come up and let me see you.” Paul passed the discomfited housekeeper, and, going upstairs, followed the old lady into a pleasant sitting room. “I am sorry to have been the means of disturbing you,” said Paul, politely. “Mrs. Holbrook sends you this letter, and wishes me to give you her love.” “You are a nice looking boy,” said the old lady, letting her glance rest approvingly on Number 91. “I hope Louisa is well.” “Very well, thank you.” She put on her glasses, and read the letter. “So you are Paul Parton,” she said, as she folded up the letter. “Yes, madam.” “A New York boy?” “Yes, madam.” “I am afraid you will find it dull here.” “O no, Mrs. Granville, I am sure I shall like the country, for a while at least.” “Do you know how to drive?” “Oh, yes; I am used to horses.” “On the whole, I am glad Louisa sent you down here. Frost Mercer, who usually drives me, has been getting lazy of late, and makes excuses when I want to go out.” “I won’t do that, Mrs. Granville. I shall be only too glad to go.” “You are sure you won’t upset me?” “I don’t believe I shall,” answered Paul, smiling. “I don’t care about being upset myself.” “I think, on the whole, I shall like to have a boy about,” said the old lady, thoughtfully. “I am afraid Mrs. Mercer might object to me.” “I am the mistress of the house. Mrs. Mercer is only the housekeeper,” said the old lady, with an unwonted assumption of dignity. “Please ring the bell, Paul.” Paul did so. Presently the housekeeper entered in answer to the summons. She looked askance at Paul. “Mrs. Mercer,” said her mistress, “you will prepare a room for this young gentleman. He will remain here, for the present.” Mrs. Mercer looked disagreeably surprised. “Perhaps you had better read this letter from my niece, Mrs. Holbrook, as it will save explanations.” The housekeeper read the letter, and her thin lips tightened with displeasure. “There is no need of your getting a boy to drive you around, ma’am,” she said. “My son is perfectly able to do it.” “Your son is very apt to be engaged when I want to drive out,” returned the old lady, dryly. “I will see that it don’t happen again,” said the housekeeper, anxious to keep Paul out of the house.