"Let it be done," said Sophronia. "What matter? A king discrowned is still a king at heart."
The senior truckman aimed a deadly blow with a cart-rung, and the bedstead filled its appointed place. The remaining furniture followed as fast as could be expected; we soon gave up the idea of getting it all into the house; but the woodhouse was spacious and easy of access, so we stowed there important portions of three chamber sets, a gem of a sideboard, the Turkish chair, which had been ordered for the parlor, and the hat-rack, which the hall was too small to hold. We also deposited in the woodhouse all the pictures, in their original packages.
At length the trucks were emptied; the senior truckman smiled sweetly as I passed a small fee into his hand then he looked thoughtfully at the roof of the cottage, and remarked:
"It's none of my business, I know; but I hate to see nice things spiled. I'd watch that roof, ef I was you, the fust time it rained."
I thanked him; he drove off; I turned and accepted the invitation which was presented by Sophronia's outstretched arms.
"Oh, Pierre!" she exclaimed; "at last we are in our own home! No uncongenial spirits about us—no one to molest or annoy—no unsympathetic souls to stifle our ardent passion for Nature and the work of her free, divine hands."
A frowsy head suddenly appeared at the dining-room door, and a voice which accompanied it remarked:
"Didn't they bring in any stove, ma'am?"
Sophronia looked inquiringly at me, and I answered:
"No!" looking very blank at the same time.