The end of it was that a new house was decided upon, and Jennie returned to Cleveland to help her mother move. Together they searched the streets for a nice, quiet neighborhood, and finally found one. A house of nine rooms, with a yard, which rented for thirty dollars, was secured and suitably furnished. There were comfortable fittings for the dining-room and sitting-room, a handsome parlor set and bedroom sets complete for each room. The kitchen was supplied with every convenience, and there was even a bath-room, a luxury the Gerhardts had never enjoyed before. Altogether the house was attractive, though plain, and Jennie was happy to know that her family could be comfortable in it. When the time came for the actual moving Mrs. Gerhardt was fairly beside herself with joy, for was not this the realization of her dreams? All through the long years of her life she had been waiting, and now it had come. A new house, new furniture, plenty of room—things finer than she had ever even imagined—think of it! Her eyes shone as she looked at the new beds and tables and bureaus and whatnots. “Dear, dear, isn’t this nice!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t it beautiful!” Jennie smiled and tried to pretend satisfaction without emotion, but there were tears in her eyes. She was so glad for her mother’s sake. She could have kissed Lester’s feet for his goodness to her family. The day the furniture was moved in Mrs. Gerhardt, Martha, and Veronica were on hand to clean and arrange things. At the sight of the large rooms and pretty yard, bare enough in winter, but giving promise of a delightful greenness in spring, and the array of new furniture standing about in excelsior, the whole family fell into a fever of delight. Such beauty, such spaciousness! George rubbed his feet over the new carpets and Bass examined the quality of the furniture critically. “Swell,” was his comment. Mrs. Gerhardt roved to and fro like a person in a dream. She could not believe that these bright bedrooms, this beautiful parlor, this handsome dining-room were actually hers. Gerhardt came last of all. Although he tried hard not to show it, he, too, could scarcely refrain from enthusiastic comment. The sight of an opal-globed chandelier over the dining-room table was the finishing touch. “Gas, yet!” he said. He looked grimly around, under his shaggy eyebrows, at the new carpets under his feet, the long oak extension table covered with a white cloth and set with new dishes, at the pictures on the walls, the bright, clean kitchen. He shook his head. “By chops, it’s fine!” he said. “It’s very nice. Yes, it’s very nice. We want to be careful now not to break anything. It’s so easy to scratch things up, and then it’s all over.” Yes, even Gerhardt was satisfied. CHAPTER XXVI