“Yes, call her,” replied Aunt Betty.
“Dorothy! Dorothy! Where are you?” called Jim.
“Here, in Alfy’s room, I have been writing in my diary,” answered the girl. “I will be there in just a minute. Oh, dear,” she continued to herself, “I just can’t seem to ever write to Frau. Every time I start on that letter someone calls, and then I stop writing, and it is so long before I can get at it again. I have to begin all over.”
“Well, young man, what is it this time?” she said, turning to Jim as she entered the room.
“It’s just this, Dorothy. You see, I am going to take the position in New York and I must live here,” started Jim.
“Ah, Jim, you never told me anything about really taking a position. I just supposed that—well, I don’t quite know—but I didn’t think you really meant to do it,” interrupted Dorothy.
“I do, Dorothy, mean it. And I have made up my mind to take it and work, so hard that some day I can make a man out of myself like Dr. Sterling and some others I know,” replied Jim. “But to get down to the point why we called you, Aunt Betty thought you might help in finding a boarding place for me. You see, I must live here in the city, and it’s hard to find a good boarding place. Miss Ruth, last night, said something about her place. Do you know where it is?”
“No, Jim, I can’t say that I do, but I heard her say that it was down on lower Fifth avenue—way downtown, she said. I might call up Mr. Ludlow and find out right now, or you can wait till to-night, for I play at that concert at the Hippodrome this evening, you know.”
“Call him up now, dear,” suggested Aunt Betty from her corner. “Then you and Jim can take a walk there this afternoon. Alfy and I can find something to amuse ourselves with. We could take one of those stages and ride up Fifth avenue on it. It’s a fine ride on a nice day like this.”
“Very well,” answered Dorothy, immediately going to the telephone, and acting on her aunt’s suggestion.