"What a horrid old thing!" remarked Mildred in an undertone, heard only by Aunt Wealthy. "We'll hope to find the inside an improvement on the out," was the cheerful rejoinder. "It has need to be, I should say!" cried the girl as they drew near. "Just see! it fronts on two streets and there's not a bit of a space separating it from either; doors open right out on to a sand bank." "That's what was made by digging the cellar," said Rupert. "There's a big yard at the side and behind," said Zillah. "Something green in it, too," added Ada, whose sight was imperfect. "Nothing but a crop of ugly weeds," said Mildred, ready to cry as memory brought vividly before her the home they had left with its large garden carpeted with green grass, adorned with shrubbery and filled with the bloom of summer flowers. The June roses must be out now and the woodbine--the air sweet with their delicious perfume--and they who had planted and tended them, so far away in this desolate looking spot. "Not a tree, a shrub, a flower or a blade of grass!" she went on, sighing as she spoke. "Never mind, we'll have lots of them next year, if I plant every one myself," said Rupert. The last load of their household goods had just been brought up from the river, the men were carrying in the heavy boxes and setting them down upon the floor of the front room. The door stood wide open and they all walked in. "Not a bit of a hall!" exclaimed Mildred, "not a cupboard or closet; nothing but four bare walls and two windows each side of the front door." "Yes, the floor and ceilings," corrected Rupert. "And another door on the other side," said Ada, running and opening it. "Not a mantelpiece to set anything on, nor any chimney at all! How on earth are we going to keep warm in the winter time?" Mildred went on, ignoring the remarks of her younger brother and sister. "With a stove, Miss; pipes run up through the floor into the room above; there's a flue there," said one of the men, wiping the perspiration from his forehead with the sleeve of his checked shirt. Mr. Keith stopped to settle with the men for their work, and the others walked on into the next room. It was as bare and more dreary than the first; somewhat larger, but had only one window, that and an outside door, opening directly upon the side street. Back of the two rooms and in a line with them, was the kitchen; smaller than either of the other rooms, but provided with a chimney and fireplace; also a small, dark closet under a flight of steep and crooked stairs which led from it to the story above. This, as they found on climbing up to it, consisted of two rooms, the first extending over kitchen and sitting-room, the other over the front room and of exactly the same size. The stairs led directly into the first room and it must be passed through to reach the second; therefore had not the recommendation of privacy.