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Danvers suddenly hastened his steps; he turned abruptly into a little side street, and, stopping at the door of a second-hand warehouse, he entered in a hesitating manner. Apart from his books and boys, Danvers always exhibited nervous hesitation. The man in the shop, a person of the name of Franks, came up to greet him.
"Can I do anything for you, Mr. Danvers?" he asked.
Danvers frowned when his name was mentioned. He had not the faintest idea of the name of the owner of the shop, and nothing annoyed him more than the fact that every soul in Hazlewick seemed to know him perfectly well.
"Good-evening!" he said abruptly. "The fact is, I've called in to ask you to send in some furniture suitable for a dog's I mean a boy's bedroom. There are four boys; the rascals I mean the young fellows are coming to stay with me. I want a room furnished you'd better send a man round to look at it the usual things, of course. Send in the furniture to-morrow. Good-evening!"
"But I beg your pardon, Mr. Danvers," said the perplexed shopman, "your order is a little vague; you have not told me what class of furniture you require."
Danvers took off his hat, and pushed up his red hair perfectly straight.
"Simple, very," he said; "no luxuries, a bed apiece, some basins and jugs; you know the sort of thing. I am in a hurry. I will wish you 'good-evening!'"
"We have got some nice iron bedsteads," began Mr. Franks, "neat and plain. I suppose carpets will be required. If you will have the goodness to step this way, sir "
Here the shopman started, for Danvers had vanished.
"Well," he said, turning to one of his men, "if this aint a rum start! Here's our Mr. Danvers ordering in furniture, promiscuous like, and four young gentlemen are going to live with him. You tot up a tidy lot of things, Blake, and let me know what the sum total comes to; four boys, he says, and they are to be provided for simple. What does this mean?"
The assistant ran off with a laugh, and that evening a good-sized bill was entered against Mr. Danvers' name in Frank's book.
That good little man returned to his home, and after supper took out his account books. He looked carefully into his banking account, found that there stood to his credit about one hundred and fifty pounds in the local bank, wondered vaguely what all the furniture would cost, perceived that he could pay for it, and then dismissed the subject from his mind. He sat up late over his translation of Cæsar, and did excellent work. He forgot all about the boys, and slept soundly when he went to bed. On returning to his house the next day at noon, the circumstance of their speedy advent was brought painfully home to him, however. A large furniture
van stood outside his modest door. Danvers kept no servant, and the men were getting impatient at having to pull the bell in vain; a crowd of small boys and girls were collected around the van, and several neighbors were poking their heads out of the adjacent windows. Danvers felt a sudden thrill run through him. He opened the door abruptly, and told the men to take the things upstairs.
"To what room, sir?" they asked.
"Any room," he answered.
He rushed into his private sanctum, and locked the door with violence. In this refuge he had a violent tussle with his temper. The tramping of strange feet was heard all over the hitherto silent house. The poor little man sat down on the nearest chair, and looked the very picture of abject misery. He was far too unhappy even to think of dinner. By and by, the sounds of alien feet died away. The men slammed the door behind them, and drove off in the now empty furniture van; the rabble of boys and girls melted out of sight. Danvers was beginning to breathe, when a somewhat timid ring was heard at the front door. His smoldering ire burst forth afresh; he strode to open it with his spectacles on the middle of his forehead. A stout, elderly woman was standing on the steps; she dropped a profound courtesy.
"Your business!" he said abruptly.
"If you please sir, I've come to offer for the situation."
"What do you mean?"
"Seeing as you're expecting company, sir, and it's known that the place is vacant "
"There is no place vacant," interrupted Danvers; "you can go. I don't require your services."
He slammed the door rudely, and went back to his parlor.
The stout woman's appearance, however, had set him thinking; he saw a fresh woe ahead of him. He had taken steps to furnish a room for the boys, but who was to cook their breakfast, and dinner, and supper, and make their beds, and in short do the sort of things which women, in his opinion, were sent into the world for?
"It grows worse and worse," he muttered. "It simply resolves itself into this: I must not only have four boys driving me to Bedlam, but the she element must be introduced into my house a charwoman! To this pass have I come. 'Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher; all is vanity.'"
CHAPTER IX. THE CLEARING OF THE WAY
Maurice colored faintly. It darted through his mind that Danvers might have called, but he scarcely thought that fact possible.