"Sit down, Mr. Adams," said the traveler, after the tea had been put
before him.
The landlord did not wait for a second invitation.
"I hope the tea is to your liking, sir."
"Excellent. I've not tasted better since I left London."
The traveler spoke blandly, as he held his cup a little way from his
lips, and looked over the top of it at his host with something more
than a casual glance. He was reading his face with an evident effort
to gain from it, as an index, some clear impression of his
character.
"My wife understands her business," replied the flattered landlord.
"There is not her equal in all the country round."
"I can believe you, Mr. Adams. Already this delicious beverage has
acted like a charmed potion. My headache has left me as if by
magic."
He set his cup down; moved his chair a little way from the table at
which he was sitting, and threw a pleasant look upon the landlord.
"How long have you been in this town, Mr. Adams?" The question
seemed indifferently asked; but the landlord's ear did not fail to
perceive in the tone in which it was given, a foreshadowing of much
beyond.
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