Amanda nodded silently in reply to Joe’s murmured “How do you do?” and quickly departed, to return a moment later with a toast-rack. Joe had never seen toast served that way before and was viewing it interestedly when Aunt Sarah, having served him with a generous helping of bacon and a fried egg, and tasted her coffee, remarked: “You’ll find the food here plain but wholesome, Joseph. And I guess you’ll always get enough. If you don’t I want you to tell me. I don’t hold with skimping on food. How’s your mother?” “Quite well, thank you. She goes to Columbus today.” Aunt Sarah sniffed. “Going to be a housekeeper at a hotel, she wrote me. A nice occupation, I must say, for a Teele!” “There didn’t seem to be much else,” replied Joe. “She might have come to me. I offered her a home. But she always was dreadfully set and independent. Well, I hope she don’t regret it. How was it your father didn’t leave anything when he died?” “I don’t know, Aunt Sarah. We always thought there was plenty of money before. But there were a good many bills, and the paper hadn’t been paying very well for a year or two, and so――――” “I told your mother when she was so set on marrying John Faulkner that he’d never be able to provide for her. I’m not surprised.” “But he did provide for my mother,” replied Joe indignantly. “We always had everything we wanted.” “You haven’t got much now, have you? Giving your folks all they want while you’re alive and leaving them without a cent when you die isn’t exactly my idea of providing.” Aunt Sarah sniffed again. “Not that I had anything against your father, though. I always liked him. What I saw of him, that is, which wasn’t much. He just wasn’t practical. Are you like him?” “Folks say I look like him,” said Joe coldly. He felt resentful of Aunt Sarah’s criticism. “So you do, but I guess you’ve got more spunk than he ever had. You’ll need it. When do you propose to start in school?” “As soon as I can. I thought I’d go and see the principal this morning.” “The sooner the better, I guess. Idleness never gets a body anywhere. Will you have another egg?” “Yes, please.” “I’m glad you haven’t got a finicky appetite.” She added bacon to the egg and pushed the toast-rack nearer. “Will you have another cup of coffee?” Joe would and said so. It seemed to him that he would never get enough to eat, which, considering that he hadn’t had anything since six o’clock the night before wasn’t surprising. Aunt Sarah nibbled at a piece of toast and sipped her coffee and was silent. Joe felt that he ought to attempt conversation and presently said: “You have a very pleasant home, Aunt Sarah.” “I’m not complaining any,” was the brief response. A minute later he happened to look up and caught her gaze. He may have been mistaken, but it seemed to him that she was regarding his performance with knife and fork quite approvingly. When he had finished, Aunt Sarah said grace, which to Joe’s thinking was turning things around, and arose.