Archibald admirably concealed a smile. His long mustache aided him a good deal in doing this. He was still standing, and he put his hand to his lips: “I think we shall agree very easily upon the price,” he said. Miss Perkins again twitched a little. “We thought twelve dollars—room and board——” she said, leaving the sentence half finished, while Elvira looked up at him, expectantly. “My dear ladies, I should not think of charging more than ten. You are strangers in the city, and I would not impose upon you for the world. It happens that this is the dull season——” “So we thought,” said Miss Perkins, “and board and lodging ought to come a little cheaper.” “Precisely. The maid will show you your sleeping-room—and, of course, the entire house is at your service. I hope you will find everything to your comfort. I am very anxious to please.” He laughed a little. Elvira gave him a grateful, but at the same time a rather patronizing, glance. He felt at once that in carrying out his little _ruse_ he had placed himself deliberately upon a questionable footing with the beautiful girl. He hoped, however, to redeem himself by impressing her with his knowledge of the pursuit which, he accurately judged, had brought the ladies to the city. Archibald had at one time done a little painting himself. He had dreamed dreams, as a young man, which indolence and the stern business atmosphere of the city had choked off prematurely. As he looked down upon the girl’s sweet gray eyes a vision of this youthful period came back to him. Twenty-two and thirty-two have this in common, that the latter age is not too far away to quite despise the younger enthusiasm. Archibald at thirty-two still believed in himself, don’t you know. III.