"I'm afraid you're giving us too good a supper," said the newsboy. "Beefsteak costs considerable. I don't want you to lose money by Rose and me."
"There is no danger of that," said Miss Manning. "It doesn't cost as much as you think for. The steak only cost me twelve cents."
"But there's the tea and the toast," suggested Rough and Ready.
"Toast costs no more than bread, and six cents pays for all the bread we eat at night. Then I only need a spoonful or two of tea, and that, and the sugar and butter altogether, don't cost more than eighteen cents."
"Do you mean that we can live like this for thirty cents a meal?" asked the newsboy, incredulously. "Why, I have about as much as that to pay for my dinner at the eating-house, and the meat isn't as good as this, I am sure."
"Yes, they charge considerable for the cooking and the profits," said Miss Manning. "I do the cooking myself, and save all that."
By this time dinner, as we may call it, was ready, and the three sat down to the table.
It was, to be sure, an humble meal; but it looked very attractive and inviting for all that, with the steak on a plate in the centre, the well-browned toast on one side, and the little plate of butter on the other, while the little teapot steamed with its fragrant beverage. It was so different from the way in which they had lived in Leonard Street, that it seemed very pleasant to the two children.
"Isn't it nice, Rufie?" said Rose.
"Yes," said the newsboy. "It's what I call reg'larly jolly. Besides, it cost so little money, I can't get over that. I'm sure we're much obliged to Miss Manning."