“What will I do with my matches?” she asked.
“You haven’t got so many but I can put ’em in my pocket.”
“An’ I’ll carry the tray in my hand. You see, if I’m goin’ there with you I wouldn’t like folks to think I’d been standin’ out here since mornin’ sellin’ matches, an’ was blowin’ in all I’d made.”
“There’s no danger of that; they’ll believe we just come from the country, an’ have got more money than we know what to do with,” Josiah said with a consequential air as he lifted the heavy valise, and stood waiting for Sadie to lead the way.
With the prospect of such a meal before her the match-girl did not delay; and as soon as Josiah signified that he was ready, she started toward Chatham Street at a pace which caused the boy, burdened as he was, no slight difficulty to equal.
Both the young people were a little timid at entering such a magnificent establishment as this restaurant appeared to be; but, aided by one of the waiters, for business was not very brisk just at this time, they were soon seated at a table which might have looked more inviting had it been less conspicuous for coffee stains on the cloth.
“What do you want?” the waiter asked, with the air of one who is not disposed to spend too much time upon his customers.
“Bring us all you’ve got for fifteen cents apiece,” Josiah replied; and the man repeated the order in what seemed to the boy from the country like a foreign tongue.
“Ain’t this just gorgeous?” Sadie whispered when they were comparatively alone. “I never was in here but twice before, an’ I’d be perfectly happy if I could always eat in such a fine place.”
“You ought to come out to the farm an’ see how mother gets supper,” Josiah said proudly. “We always have clean table-cloths, an’ the dishes ain’t so heavy’s these; though I don’t know but the more they weigh the more they cost,” he added reflectively.