"Father hopes to get a bread, coal and meat ticket to-morrow, dear."
"Well, this is a pretty welcome for a fellow!" grumbled Benjamin.
"I'm so sorry, Benjy! If I'd only known you were coming I might have borrowed some coals from Mrs. Belcovitch. But just stamp your feet a little if they freeze. No, do it outside the door; grandmother's asleep. Why didn't you write to me you were coming?"
"I didn't know. Old Four-Eyes—that's one of our teachers—was going up to London this afternoon, and he wanted a boy to carry some parcels, and as I'm the best boy in my class he let me come. He let me run up and see you all, and I'm to meet him at London Bridge Station at seven o'clock. You're not much altered, Esther."
"Ain't I?" she said, with a little pathetic smile. "Ain't I bigger?"
"Not four years bigger. For a moment I could fancy I'd never been away.
How the years slip by! I shall be Barmitzvah soon."
"Yes, and now I've got you again I've so much to say I don't know where to begin. That time father went to see you I couldn't get much out of him about you, and your own letters have been so few."
"A letter costs a penny, Esther. Where am I to get pennies from?"
"I know, dear. I know you would have liked to write. But now you shall tell me everything. Have you missed us very much?"
"No, I don't think so," said Benjamin.