George exploded into a
hearty, uncontrollable laugh; while Elsie, in the darkness, shook
her little fist at the stranger, who hastened to add, "Please let
me bid you good-evening, I have not the slightest claim on your
hospitality."
"Where are you staying?" asked Mrs. Alford, a little mystified.
"We would like you to spend at least part of the time with us."
"I do not expect to be here very long. I have a room at the
hotel."
"Now, look here, Stanhope," cried George, barring all egress by
planting his back against the door, "do you take me, a half-
fledged theologue, for a heathen? Do you suppose that I could be
such a churl as to let a classmate stay at our dingy, forlorn
little tavern and eat hash on Thanksgiving Day? I could never look
you in the face at recitation again. Have some consideration for
my peace of mind, and I am sure you will find our home quite as
endurable as anything Mr. Starks can provide."
"Oh! as to that, from even the slight glimpse that I have had,
this seems more like a home than anything I have known for many
years; but I cannot feel it right that I, an unexpected stranger--"
"Come, come! No more of that! You know what is written about
'entertaining strangers;' so that is your strongest claim.
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