“Then we own it all except four hundred dollars. It is worth fully twelve hundred dollars, so that we are worth at least eight hundred dollars.”
“That won’t last very long,” said Mrs. Raymond.
“Not if we spend it; but I hope we shan’t have to do that. Still it gives us something to fall back upon, in case I don’t succeed very well at first. Then there is the furniture; that must be worth at least two hundred dollars.”
“It cost considerably more.”
“Never mind, we will call it two hundred dollars. You see,” he added, cheerfully, “we have got up to a thousand already. Now, mother, have you got any money in the house?”
“About twenty-five dollars.”
“That is not much, but it is something. I suppose that is all.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Well, it isn’t so bad as it might be. Think of those who are left wholly destitute, with starvation staring them in the face. When you think of that, we are quite rich in comparison.”
“I might have had something to help along,” said Mrs. Raymond, “but my father lost what little property we had before he died, and left nothing at all.”