She had opened the door as she spoke, and the little scrubber's eyes were dazzled by the elegance of the appointments—a silver vase filled with violets, a silver card-case, and—but Amarilly resolutely shut her eyes upon this proffered grandeur and turned to the lean but longing little daughter of the stage-hand.
"You see, I come with her," she explained simply and loyally.
"There is room for you both. Myrtie can sit on this little seat."
Overawed by the splendor of her environment, Amarilly held her breath as they glided swiftly through the streets. There was other glory, it seemed, than that of the footlights. When the happy little Myrtle had been left at her humble home the young teacher turned with eager anticipation to Amarilly.
"Tell me more about yourself, Amarilly. First of all, who is the
Boarder?"
Amarilly explained their affairs, even to the "double-decker diner," as the Boarder had called the table arrangement.
"And what has he done for you, Amarilly, that you are so anxious he should have a rug?"
"He's larnin' me readin', writin', spellin', and figgers."
"Don't you go to school?"
"No; I hev to bring in wages and help ma with the washin's."