In a minute he heard footsteps within, and saw the
gleam of a lamp. His heart palpitated violently as he heard the lock
turning, lest the answerer of his summons might be his tenant. The door
opened, and, to his relief, he stood before a rather decent-looking
Irishman, bending forward in his stocking-feet, with one boot and a
lamp in his hand. The man stared at him from a wild head of tumbled
red hair, with a half-smile round his loose open month, and said,
"Begorra!" This was a second-floor tenant.
Dr. Renton was relieved at the sight of him; but he rather failed in
an attempt at his rent-day suavity of manner, when he said,--
"Good evening, Mr. Flanagan. Do you think I can see Mrs. Miller
to-night?"
"She's up _there_, docther, anyway." Mr. Flanagan made a sudden start
for the stairs, with the boot and lamp at arm's length before him, and
stopped as suddenly. "Yull go up? or wud she come down to ye?" There
was as much anxious indecision in Mr. Flanagan's general aspect,
pending the reply, as if he had to answer the question himself.
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