But the night had now closed in, and coffee was in progress. Ralph took
his seat with the rest of the lodgers, though without partaking of the
feast. Rivers did not make his appearance, much to the chagrin of the
youth, who was excessively desirous to account for the curious
observance of this man. He had some notion, besides, that the former was
not utterly unknown to him; for, though unable to identify him with any
one recollection, his features (what could be seen of them) were
certainly not unfamiliar. After supper, requesting Forrester's company
in his chamber, he left the company--not, however, without a few
moments' chat with Lucy Munro and her aunt, conducted with some spirit
by the former, and seemingly to the satisfaction of all. As they left
the room, Ralph spoke:--

"I am not now disposed for sleep, Forrester, and, if you please, I
should be glad to hear further about your village and the country at
large. Something, too, I would like to know of this man Rivers, whose
face strikes me as one that I should know, and whose eyes have been
haunting me to-day rather more frequently than I altogether like, or
shall be willing to submit to. Give me an hour, then, if not fatigued,
in my chamber, and we will talk over these matters together."

"Well, 'squire, that's just what pleases me now. I like good company,
and 'twill be more satisfaction to me, I reckon, than to you. As for
fatigue, that's out of the question. Somehow or other, I never feel
fatigued when I've got somebody to talk to."

"With such a disposition, I wonder, Forrester, you have not been more
intimate with the young lady of the house. Miss Lucy seems quite an
intelligent girl, well-behaved, and virtuous."