There was nobody like Cosimo for beginning at the beginning. "What," he asked, extending a magnificent arm, bare (and black) to the very shoulder, "is the use of doing the floor when you're going to fetch all sorts of cobwebs down from the walls and ceiling, and haven't as much as got the chimney swept? It's simply doing work twice over. No; let that plumber chap finish the sink-pipe first, then, when the things we've bought come, I'll have the men give them a thorough sweeping in the cart and Mrs. 'Ill or Jellies can wash them with ammonia and water downstairs, so that everything'll come in perfectly clean. Jellies, did you get lots of old newspapers? All right, I don't want 'em yet, they're to cover the floor when I distemper the walls. Put 'em out on the landing there.--Now give me that brush, Mrs. 'Ill----" He took a long brush from Mrs. 'Ill and began at the corner of the ceiling beyond the fireplace. Dorothy had taken away her black-and-white desk and her other belongings some days before; now the table, the chairs, Amory's easel and a whole clutter of other things filled the landing and staircase outside. The plumber worked crouched half under the sink; but the chimney-sweep who had promised to come that morning at eight had not yet put in an appearance. The floor was an inch deep in dust and cobwebs and débris, and Cosimo's broom fetched down fresh showers moment by moment. He wore an old deer-stalker cap, to keep them out of his tendrilled hair. Amory, too, wore an old dust-bonnet of Mrs. 'Ill's and her oldest painting pinafore. Cosimo gave her loud warnings to stand out of the way as each fall came down. Mrs. 'Ill and Jellies grimaced and spat the dust out of their mouths as they swept the walls. For a whole week Cosimo had been past telling helpful and enthusiastic. He had not gone out when Amory had called on him that morning; he had been still in bed; but, hearing her knock and knowing her step, he had called, "That you, Amory? Oh, do come in!" So Amory had sat on the edge of Cosimo's bed, and Cosimo had bounded upward into a sitting posture as Amory had told him her great news. "No, by Jove, really, though!" he had shouted joyously. "You've got the money? I say, Amory, that's perfectly glorious! Tell me quickly what you're going to do!" And they had taken a header into plans, both talking at once. Cosimo had done the whole of the shopping; Amory had merely stood by and nodded and admired. "Leave it all to me," he had said repeatedly; "you have your own special work that nobody but you can do: I can just about manage this.... Now, have you a bed? And a bath? And what about somewhere for your clothes? Tell me everything you've got, and then we shall know where we are."