“Where does she live?”
Phil told him.
“What sort of a house is it?”
“It isn't a brown-stone front,” answered Phil, smiling. “It is a poor, cheap house; but it is as good as she can afford to hire.”
“And you like her?”
“Very much, Mr. Carter. She has been very kind to me, and though she finds it so hard to get along, she has told me she will keep me as long as she has a roof over her head, though just now I cannot pay my board, because my income is gone.”
“It will come back again, Philip,” said the old gentleman.
Phil understood by this that he would be restored to his place in Mr. Pitkin's establishment. This did not yield him unalloyed satisfaction, for he was sure that it would be made unpleasant for him by Mr. Pitkin. Still he would accept it, and meet disagreeable things as well as he could.
By this time they had reached the Astor House.
Phil jumped out first, and assisted Mr. Carter to descend.