When Jeanne had finished her morning's housecleaning, the room contained only the two built-in bunks, one above another, a small box-stove, a battered golden-oak table, that had once belonged to Mrs. Shannon, a plain wooden chair, and a home-made bench.
"Some day," said Jeanne, "I'll scrub that furniture, but if I don't eat something now I'll die. I'm glad James gave me too much money. And I have nineteen dollars in my pincushion. After I've had lunch I'll go shopping, for I need a lot of things. Old Captain shall have sheets, too; and I'll buy some cheap stuff for curtains—it'll be fun to make them and put them up. I wonder if oilcloth like Aunt Agatha had in her kitchen costs very much. That would be pleasanter to eat on than newspapers and very easy to wash. White would be nicest, I think. And if I could buy some pieces of rag carpet—my floor is pretty cold."
It was rather a long way to town, but Jeannette, freshened by a bath in the Cinder Pond and clad in a clean dull-blue linen frock, trudged along the road until she reached the sidewalk. Here she unfolded something that she carried in her hand—a small square of cloth. With it she carefully wiped the dust from her shoes.
"There," said she, throwing away the rag. "The Cinder Pond Savage looks a little more like Jeannette Huntington Duval."
She proved a better shopper than Old Captain. A new five-and-ten-cent store provided her with some excellent plated knives, forks, and teaspoons. She bought three of each—Barney might want to stay to supper sometime. Also a nice smooth saucepan, some fruit, some rolls, some cookies; besides the white oilcloth, which had proved inexpensive; and some other drygoods. So many things, in fact, that she wondered how to get them home.
SHE ALMOST BUMPED INTO A FORMER ACQUAINTANCE
"Where," asked the clerk, at the last place, "shall I send this?"
"It's out quite a little beyond the town," said Jeanne, doubtfully.