er the palings and peered at a card that stood on the window-sash:

FURNISHED APARTMENTS
FOR SINGLE YOUNG MAN
BOARD IF DESIRED.

He walked away whistling, and after going a little way turned and passed
it again. He passed in all four times, and then, with an odd grin
lurking at the corners of his mouth, strode up to the front door and
knocked loudly. He heard somebody moving about inside, and, more with
the idea of keeping his courage up than anything else, gave another heavy
knock at the door. It was thrown open hastily, and the astonished face
of his wife appeared before him.

"What do you want?" she inquired, sharply.

Mr. Hatchard raised his hat. "Good-afternoon, ma'am," he said, politely.

"What do you want?" repeated his wife.

"I called," said Mr. Hatchard, clearing his throat--"I called about the
bill in the window."

[Illustration: "I called about the bill in the window."]

Mrs. Hatchard clutched at the door-post.

"Well?" she gasped.

"I'd like to see the rooms," said the other.

"But you ain't a single young man," said his wife, recovering.

"I'm as good as single," said Mr. Hatchard. "I should say, better."

"You ain't young," objected Mrs. Hatchard. "I'm three years younger than
what you are," said Mr. Hatchard, dispassionately.

His wife's lips tightened and her hand closed on the door; Mr. Hatchard
put his foot in.

"If you don't want lodgers, why do you put a bill up?" he inquired.

"I don't take the first that comes," said his wife.

"I'll pay a week in advance," said Mr. Hatchard, putting his hand in his
pocket. "Of course, if you're afraid of having me here--afraid o' giving
way to tenderness, I mean----"

"Afraid?" choked Mrs. Hatchard. "Tenderness! I--I----"

"Just a matter o' business," continued her husband; "that's my way of
looking at it--that's a man's way. I s'pose women are different. They
can't----"

"Come in," said Mrs. Hatchard, breathing hard Mr. Hatchard obeyed, and
clapping a hand over his mouth ascended the stairs behind her. At the
top she threw open the door of a tiny bedroom, and stood aside for him to
enter. Mr. Hatchard sniffed critically.

"Smells rather stuffy," he said, at last.

"You needn't have it," said his wife, abruptly. "There's plenty of other
fish in the sea."

"Yes; and I expect they'd stay there if they saw this room," said the
other.

"Don't think I w