“Suppose you were rich enough, wouldn’t you like to board here?”
“I don’t know,” said Tom, looking round. “It’s dark.”
“All the rooms are not dark. Besides, you’d get three square meals every day.”
“I’d like that,” said Tom, seriously.
Their further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the captain’s sister, Mrs. Merton. She was rather a stout woman, but there was an expression of care on her face, which was not surprising, for it is no light thing to keep a New York boarding-house.
“When did you arrive in the city, Albert?” she asked, giving him her hand cordially.
“Only just arrived, Martha. How does the world use you?”
“I can’t complain, though it’s a wearing thing looking after a household like this. Have you had any breakfast?”
“I took some down town.”
Just then Mrs. Merton’s eye fell for the first time upon Tom. She started in surprise, and looked doubtfully at her brother.