"Yes, so you seem," was the reply; and Geoffrey smiled at the frank confession. "Exceeded your dose last night." "Dose?" said the old gentleman. "Hang it, man, don't call a glass of spirits and water by the same name as your filthy drugs. Good-morning, boy! and don't you laugh at me." Hooking the fresh-coloured man by the arm, he was moving off. "Good-morning," said Geoffrey, smiling. "But stop a moment. Perhaps you gentlemen can help me." "Come away, Rumsey!" cried the old fellow, with mock horror in his thin face. "He's a book canvasser, or a collector for some confounded charity. Who the devil are you, sir; and what do you want?" "Why, what a jolly old pepperbox you are!" cried Geoffrey, merrily. "Have you been out in India?" "Yes, sir--I have been out in India," cried the old man, turning yellow with anger once more. "Confounded puppy!" he muttered, thumping down his stick. "I thought so," replied Geoffrey, coolly; "I had an uncle just like you." "Confound your uncle, sir!" cried the choleric old man. "Hang it all, Rumsey, don't you hear the fellow insulting me? Why don't you knock him down, or poison him?" "Have I the pleasure of addressing Dr Rumsey?" said Geoffrey. "That is my name," said the fresh-coloured man, looking suspiciously at the speaker as one who seemed too lusty and well to be in his way. "I am coming to live here, doctor," said Geoffrey, in a free, frank way that seemed to set him at ease with those whom he had addressed. "I only came in by the coach this morning. Where can I get comfortable, inexpensive apartments--just a bed and sitting-room, you know? I have been asking everywhere, but there seems to be no such thing to be had." The doctor glanced at the old gentleman, and the old gentleman returned the look, following it up by poking Geoffrey in the side with his cane. "Here, young fellow--you, sir! Who are your--what are you?" he exclaimed. "Who am I, my unceremonious old friend, and what am I? Well, my name is Trethick, and I'm a mining engineer." "But are you respectable?" "No," said Geoffrey, solemnly. "I am very poor; so I don't think I am." "Confound you, sir!" cried the old gentleman. "Your eyes are twinkling. You're laughing at me." "True, oh, king," said Geoffrey. "But can you pay regularly for your lodgings?" "I hope so," replied Geoffrey, whom the choleric old fellow thoroughly amused. "Come here," cried the latter, dropping the doctor and hooking Geoffrey by the arm, as if taking him into custody. "You're good for the bile! Rumsey, I'll take him up to Mrs Mullion's, or she'll be letting her rooms to the new parson out of spite." CHAPTER SIX. APARTMENTS TO LET. Geoffrey looked in astonishment at the old gentleman, and then glanced at the doctor. "You can't do better, Mr Trethick," said that individual, "for those are the only decent apartments you are likely to get here."