e likely to derive very
much pleasure from the fruition of Michael's proposal.

They were going downstairs again now, and Mrs. Cleghorne was evidently
beginning to acquire a conviction of her own importance, because
somebody had contemplated with a certain amount of interest those two
empty rooms on the ground floor; in the gratification of her pride she
was endowing them with a value and a character they did not possess.

"I've always said that, properly cared for, those two rooms are worth
any other two rooms in the house. And of course that's the reason I'm
really compelled to charge a bit more for them. I always say to everyone
right out--if you want the two best rooms in the house, why, you must
pay according. They're only empty now because I've always been
particular about letting them. I won't have anybody, and that's a fact.
Mr. Barnes here knows I'm really fond of those rooms."

They had re-entered them, and Mrs. Cleghorne stood with arms admiringly
akimbo.

"They really are a beautiful lodging," she declared. "When would you
want them from?"

"Well, as soon as I can get them done up," said Michael.

"I see. Perhaps you could explain a little more clearly just what you
was thinking of doing?"

Michael gave some of his theories of decoration, while Mrs. Cleghorne
waited in critical audience; as it were, feeling the pulse of the
apartments under the stimulus of Michael's sketch of their potentiality.

"All white?" the landlady echoed pessimistically. "That sounds very
gloomy, doesn't it? More like a outhouse or a coal-cellar than a nice
couple of rooms."

"Well, they couldn't look rottener than what they do at present," Barnes
put in. "So if you take my advice, you'll say 'yes' and be very
thankful. They'll look clean, anyway."

The landlady threw back her head and surveyed Barnes like a snake about
to strike.

"Rotten?" she sniffed. "I'm sure this gentleman here isn't likely to
find a nicer and cheaper pair of rooms or a more convenient and a
quieter pair of rooms anywhere in Pimlico. A lot of people is very
anxious to be in this neighborhood."

Mrs. Cleghorne was much offended by Barnes' criticism, and there was a
long period of dubiety before it was settled that Michael should be
accepted as a tenant.

"I've never cared for white," she said, in final protest. "Not since I
was married."

Reminded of Mr. Cleghorne's existence in the basement, she hurried
forthwith to rout him out. As she disap