Dinner over, they spent the afternoon in reading.
They had an early tea, and then went out to church for the evening service, walking there and back again. They reached home after ten o’clock, for the way was long. They were revived in spirit and wholesomely fatigued in body, so that they soon retired to rest and slept well. Even Stuart slept, though he believed that this night ended their last day in their pretty home, and that the next morning would send them adrift, bereft of all their effects, except the clothes they wore, and Heaven only knew whither! But—they would be in their Father’s world! No one could turn them out of that. So they slept in peace.
I have been particular in describing these last two days of Stuart’s and Palma’s experience, for they were ever after memorable in their lives.
On Monday morning they arose early, as usual. It had been Stuart’s daily custom to go out after breakfast in search of employment. He had continued this under all discouragements.
Yet this morning he stayed at home to see the landlord’s collector, who always arrived the day after the bill had come by mail. As the bill had arrived on Saturday, and the collector could not come on Sunday, he would certainly put in an appearance on Monday, and Palma must not be left alone to receive him—under the circumstances.
Palma took her knitting—a pair of mittens for Mrs. Pole—and sat down to work near the window, from which she could look below upon the housetops and above to the glorious December sky.
Stuart took a book and threw himself into a rocking-chair by the table, but he did not read. He was waiting—for what? He did not know.
The door opened and “the boy” came in, silently laid a letter on the table, and went out again.
Stuart took it up and opened it. Palma looked up from her work.
“Why—this is the rent bill. I thought it came Saturday. Where is that letter that came?” Stuart inquired.