“For instance?” She smiled. A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters. He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things. ‘A French rat with exceedingly long arms, I see.
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