“I can readily understand that,” said Rollo, who was a bright little chap thoroughly interested.
“Therefore,” continued his mother, “it is more than likely that when the news of our arrival begins to be spread about through the city there will be an immediate demand for our photographs.”
“Yes,” said Rollo, rather peevishly, “but I do not see why Uncle George, and Lucy and James have to be in the picture. And Jonas, is he important? O-ho!” Rollo laughed at the very idea.
“Rollo,” said his mother quietly, “you do wrong to laugh so. Your Uncle George and Lucy and James are going with us to the City. They are to share our new home, for we have rented our farms to two New York gentlemen for a great deal of money, much more than it will cost us to live in New York if we all live together.”
“But Jonas is the hired-man,” objected Rollo.
“From now,” said his mother, “he is not the hired-man. He is your father’s secretary.”
“His secretary!” cried Rollo. “I do not understand?”
“You do not have to,” said his mother. “Come along; the chaise is waiting.”
