"True, I am twenty-nine, but I said twenty-seven to see if you would remember. I suppose gentlemen are never sensitive about their ages." "I don't know. I am twenty-six, and wish I were thirty-six." "Mercy, what a strange wish! How can you possibly wish that you were older." "Because I could make a larger income. It is all very well to be a young minister, but a young doctor does not inspire confidence." "I am sure I would rather call in a young doctor unless I were _very_ sick." "There it is! Unless you were very sick." "But even then," said the widow, coquettishly, "I am sure I should feel confidence in you, Dr. Fenwick. You wouldn't prescribe very nasty pills, would you?" "I would order bread pills, if I thought they would answer the purpose." "That would be nice. But you haven't answered my question. What were you and Miss Blagden talking about?" "About doctors; she hasn't much faith in men of my profession." "Or of any other, I fancy. What do you think of her?" "That is a leading question, Mrs. Wyman; I haven't thought very much about her so far, I have thought more of you." "Oh, you naughty flatterer!" said the widow, graciously. "Not that I believe you. Men are such deceivers." "Do ladies never deceive?" "You ought to have been a lawyer, you ask such pointed questions. Really, Dr. Fenwick, I am quite afraid of you." "There's no occasion. I am quite harmless, I do assure you. The time to be afraid of me is when you call me in as a physician." "Excuse me, doctor, but Mrs. Gray is about to make an announcement." We both turned our glances upon the landlady. CHAPTER VI. COUNT PENELLI. Mrs. Gray was a lady of the old school. She was the widow of a merchant supposed to be rich, and in the days of her magnificence had lived in a large mansion on Fourteenth Street, and kept her carriage. When her husband died suddenly of apoplexy his fortune melted away, and she found herself possessed of expensive tastes, and a pittance of _two_ thousand dollars. She was practical, however, and with a part of her money bought an old established boarding-house on Waverley Place. This she had conducted for ten years, and it yielded her a good income. Her two thousand dollars had become ten, and her future was secure. Mrs. Gray did not class herself among boarding-house keepers. Her boarders she regarded as her family, and she felt a personal interest in each and all. When they became too deeply in arrears, they received a quiet hint, and dropped out of the pleasant home circle. But this did not happen very often. From time to time when she had anything which she thought would interest her "family," she made what might be called a "speech from the throne." Usually we could tell when this was going to take place. She moved about a little restlessly, and pushed back her chair slightly from the table. Then all became silent and expectant. This morning Mrs. Wyman augured rightly. Mrs. Gray was about to make an announcement.