"In the cellar. There's room enough. And if I was you, I wouldn't get less than half a ton. They make awful profits when they sell by the basket. You will want a little kindling too. Hadn't you better get a little bit of a stove? one with two places for cooking; or one place. It will save itself six times over in the course of the winter." "Where can I get it?" "I guess you're pretty much of a stranger here, aint you?" "Entirely a stranger." "I thought so. Folks get a look according to the place they live. You aint bad enough for New York," she added with a merry and acute smile. "I hope there are some good people here," said Mrs. Carpenter. "I hope so. I haven't passed 'em all through my sieve; got something else to do; and it aint my business neither. Well--only don't you think there aint some bad ones in the lot, that's all. There's plenty of places where you can get your stove, if you want to. Elwall's in Abingdon Square, is a very good place. Some things goes with the stove. I guess you know what you want as well as I do," she said, breaking off and smiling again. "I shall need bedding too," said Mrs. Carpenter, with a look at the empty bedstead. "You can't do everything at once, if you're to come in to-morrow. I'll tell you--I've a bed you can have, that I aint using. It'll cost you less, and do just as well. I aint one of the bad ones," she said, again with a gleam of a smile. "I shan't cheat you." The arrangement was made at last, and Mrs. Carpenter and Rotha set out on their way back. They stopped in Abingdon Square and bought a stove, a little tea-kettle, a saucepan and frying pan; half a dozen knives and forks, spoons, etc., a lamp, and sundry other little indispensable conveniences for people who would set up housekeeping. Rotha was glad to be quit of the hotel, and yet in a divided state of mind. Too tired to talk, however, that night; which was a happiness for her mother. The next day was one of delightful bustle; all filled with efforts to get in order in the new quarters. And by evening a great deal was done. The bed was made; the washstand garnished; the little stove put up, fire made in it, and the kettle boiled; and at night mother and daughter sat down to supper together, taking breath for the first time that day. Mrs. Carpenter had been to a neighbouring grocery and bought a ham and bread; eggs were so dear that they scared her; she had cooked a slice and made tea, and Rotha declared that it tasted good. "But this is funny bread, mother." "It is baker's bread." "It is nice, a little, but it isn't sweet." "Let us be thankful we have got it, Rotha." "Yes; but, mother, I think I should be _more_ thankful for better bread." "I will try and make you some better," Mrs. Carpenter said laughing. "This is not economical, I am sure." "Mother," said Rotha, "do you suppose aunt Serena takes in sewing?" "She? no. She gives it out."