eep it herself.

Wild as this scheme appeared in theory, when put into practical
operation there seemed to be some chance of success. Much, doubtless,
was owing to her practical knowledge of hotel-keeping, but more to
her rigid economy and untiring industry. The mistress of millions,
she cooked, washed, waited on table, made the beds, and labored like
a common menial. Visitors were attracted by this novel spectacle. The
income of the house increased as their respect for the hostess lessened.
No anecdote of her avarice was too extravagant for current belief. It
was even alleged that she had been known to carry the luggage of guests
to their rooms, that she might anticipate the usual porter's gratuity.
She denied herself the ordinary necessaries of life. She was poorly
clad, she was ill-fed--but the hotel was making money.

A few hinted of insanity; others shook their heads, and said a curse was
entailed on the property. It was believed, also, from her appearance,
that she could not long survive this tax on her energies, and already
there was discussion as to the probable final disposition of her
property.

It was the particular fortune of Mr. Jack Hamlin to be able to set the
world right on this and other questions regarding her.

A stormy December evening had set in when he chanced to be a guest of
the Rockville Hotel. He had, during the past week, been engaged in the
prosecution of his noble profession at Red Dog, and had, in the graphic
language of a coadjutor, "cleared out the town, except his fare in the
pockets of the stage-driver." "The Red Dog Standard" had bewailed his
departure in playful obituary verse, beginning, "Dearest Johnny, thou
hast left us," wherein the rhymes "bereft us" and "deplore" carried
a vague allusion to "a thousand dollars more." A quiet contentment
naturally suffused his personality, and he was more than usually lazy
and deliberate in his speech. At midnight, when he was about to retire,
he was a little surprised, however, by a tap on his door, followed by
the presence of Mistress Peg Moffat, heiress, and landlady of Rockville
hotel.

Mr. Hamlin, despite his previous defence of Peg, had no liking for her.
His fastidious taste rejected her uncomeliness; his habits of thought
and life were all antagonistic to what he had heard of her niggardliness
and greed. As she stood there, in a dirty calico wrapper, still redolent
with the day's cuisine, crimson with embarrassment and the recent hea