“Upstairs, sewing,” replied a woman’s voice. “My, Tom, but you are making quite a noise.”
“Can’t help it, mother! I’ve got good news! I’ve got a job!”
“Have you really, Tom? Come right up and tell us about it. I’m very glad!”
“Tell him to be sure and wipe his feet,” added another woman’s voice, from the same upstairs-room where Mrs. Baldwin was sewing. “The snow’s melting outside, and he’ll track it all over the house.”
“I guess he has already done so, Sallie,” said Tom’s mother a little ruefully. “He’s half-way upstairs now.”
“Land sakes! And that carpet only just cleaned! What terrible creatures boys are!”
“Not so very bad, Sallie,” replied Mrs. Baldwin with a smile.
Meanwhile, Tom was coming up the stairs with a rush, and when he reached the top he found his mother in the hall waiting for him. He kissed her affectionately, and then followed her into the room from which she had emerged to greet him.
The apartment was a small front one, and contained two sewing machines, and, from the cloth, patterns, needles and thread scattered about, it did not need a sign to tell that dressmaking was conducted in it.
“Hello, Aunt Sallie!” exclaimed Tom, as he prepared to sit down on a chair near the door.