"What! But you declined?" "On the contrary, I accepted at once." Mrs. Paynter's agent was much surprised and interested by this news, and said so. "But how in the world," she went on, puzzled, "did you make him like you so? I always supposed that he hated everybody--he does me, I know." "I believe he does hate everybody but me." "Strange--extraordinary!" said Sharlee, picturing the two scholars alone together in their flat, endeavoring to soft-boil eggs on one of those little fixtures over the gas. "I can see nothing in the least extraordinary in the refusal of a cultured gentleman to hate me." "I don't mean it that way at all--not at all! But Professor Nicolovius must know cultured gentlemen, congenial roomers, who are nearer his own age--" "Oh, not necessarily," said Queed, and sat down in the chair by her, Major Brooke's chair. "He is a most unsocial sort of man,"--this from the little Doctor!--"and I doubt if he knows anybody better than he knows me. That he knows me so well is due solely to the fact that we have been forced on each other three times a day for over a year. For the first month or so after I came here, we remained entire strangers, I remember, and passed each other on the stairs without speaking. Gradually, however, he has come to take a great fancy to me." "And is that why you are going off to a honeymoon cottage with him?" "Hardly. I am going because it will be the best sort of arrangement for me." "Oh!" "I will pay, you see," said Queed, "no more than I am paying here; for that matter, I have no doubt that I could beat him down to five dollars a week, if I cared to do so. In return I shall have decidedly greater comforts and conveniences, far greater quiet and independence, and complete freedom from interruptions and intrusions. The arrangement will be a big gain in several ways for me." "And have you taken a great fancy to Professor Nicolovius, too?" "Oh, no!--not at all. But that has very little to do with it. At least he has the great gift of silence." Sharlee looked at his absorbed face closely. She thought that his head in profile was very fine, though certainly his nose was too prominent for beauty. But what she was wondering was whether the little Doctor had really changed so much after all. "Well," said she, slowly, "I'm sorry you're going." "Sorry--why? It would appear to me that under the tenets of your religion you ought to be glad. You ought to compliment me for going." "I don't find anything in the tenets of my religion that requires you to go off and room-keep with Professor Nicolovius."