“Perhaps you will, sooner’n you think for,” Josiah began, and then checked himself as if suddenly remembering he was saying too much regarding that which had occupied a prominent place in his thoughts during the past two or three days.
Sadie made no attempt to do any business on this morning, explaining that she could work all the better after they had been to the museum; and the two went to Baker’s Court to wait the coming of Tom and Bob.
To Sadie’s delight the young gentlemen did not arrive until dinner was ready, consequently she had another “square meal,” as she confidentially told Josiah.
“I didn’t really mean to hang ’round for somethin’ to eat,” she explained; “but so long’s we’d got to wait here for ’em, I was glad they staid away till noon. After you’ve gone home I expect there’ll be a good many times when I’ll remember what we ate in the restaurant down to Coney Island, which I wouldn’t have got if you hadn’t come to the city, an’ let that stand for a meal.”
“Are you goin’ to sell matches all winter?”
“I’ll have to; for there’s nothin’ else I can do.”
“But you’ll freeze to death on the streets when it comes cold.”
“It won’t be quite so bad as that, ’cause a feller can move ’round an’ go into the stores once in a while, to stand over the registers till they drive you out. It’s worse at night when you can’t get in anywhere.”
This conversation was interrupted by the young newsdealers, who insisted the party should start at once for the museum, in order to be back sufficiently early to join their business acquaintances who were to give the feast in honor of Josiah.
“Is Bill Foss goin’ to be there?” Josiah asked, probably thinking that in such a case there was every chance the pleasure would be sadly curtailed.