"I have thought it all out," said Miriam, "if it is one of those large farm-houses, with a big kitchen, where the family eat and spend their evening, we shall eat there, too, this once. You shall build a fire, and I'll have the coffee made in no time. There must be a coffee-pot, or a tin cup, or something to boil in. The chops can be broiled over the coals." "On what?" asked Ralph. "You can get a pointed stick and toast them, if there is no other way, sir. And you need not make fun of my supper; the chops are very nice ones, and I have wrapped them up in oiled silk, so that they will not grease the other things." "Oh, don't talk any more about them," exclaimed Ralph. "It makes me too dreadfully hungry." "If it is a cottage," remarked Miriam, looking reflectively out of the window, "I cannot get it out of mind that there will be all sorts of kitchen things hanging around the old-fashioned fireplace. That would be very nice and convenient, but--" "You hope it is not a cottage?" said her brother. "Well," answered Miriam, presently, "home is home, and I made up my mind to be perfectly satisfied with it whatever kind of house it may be. It seems to me that a real home ought to be like parents and relations; we've got them, and we can't change them, and we never think of such a thing. We love them quite as they are. But I cannot help hoping, just a little, that it is not a cottage. The only ones I have ever been in smelt so much of soapsuds." It was now quite dark, and the road appeared to be growing rougher. Every now and then they jolted over a big stone, or sunk into a deep rut. Ralph let down the front window. "Are we nearly there?" he asked of the driver. "Yes, sir," said the man; "we are on the place now." "You don't mean," exclaimed Miriam, "that this is our road!" "It's a good deal washed just here," said the man, "by the heavy rains." Presently the road became smoother and in a few minutes the carriage stopped. "I am trembling all over," said Miriam, "with thinking of being at home, and with not an idea of what it is like." In a moment they were standing on a broad flagstone. Although it was dark, they could see the outline of the house before them. "Ralph," whispered Miriam, drawing close to her brother, "it is not a cottage." Without waiting for a reply she went on: "Ralph," she said, her hands trembling as they held his arm, "it is lordly." "I had some sort of an idea like that myself," he answered; "but, my dear, don't you think it will be well to keep this man until we go inside and see what sort of accommodations we shall find? Perhaps we may be obliged to go back to the town." Miriam immediately began to ascend the broad steps of the piazza. "Come on, Ralph," she said, "and please don't talk like that." Her brother laughed, paid the driver and dismissed him. "Now, little girl," he cried, "we have burned our ships, and must take what we shall find."