"Where are you to leave the key? I'll take it for you."
"Oh, you needn't. It's the janitor, right here in the buildin'."
"Then it's all clear sailing," said Phil. "Get on your things, Eliza."
"It's a little early," she demurred. "If it wasn't for Pluto I wouldn't care; but you go along, Mr. Sidney, and don't think anything more about us. You ought to go and see that those goods get in all right."
"We'll be there to meet them. Do you suppose I would let you leave New York without seeing where I'm going to live? And do you suppose I'd let you out of my sight anyway till I put you on the train?"
"Dear me!" returned Eliza, fluttered, but feeling as if the sun had suddenly peeped through the November clouds. "I never thought—" she stopped undecidedly.
"Well, I did," said Phil heartily. "It's a shame that I haven't helped you any this hard week. Where's Pluto?"
"He may be back on the stove again," returned Eliza. "I don't dare take my eyes off him." She moved quickly toward the kitchen, and there on her habiliments lay the cat; but at sight of her he leaped guiltily to the floor.
Phil, following, laughed. "Well, things have come to a pretty pass when you have to hang your coat up on the stove." He looked about the spotless place. "I wonder if this apartment will ever be so clean again."