“It would help us for a time, but not for always,” the mother replied. “Lodgings are so expensive.”
“The house is a great deal bigger than we need,” said Marion.
“We should be no better off if it were smaller,” said Mrs. Lockhart.
There was a long pause. Suddenly Marion jumped to her feet, while the light of inspiration brightened over her face. “Why, mother, what is to prevent us letting our spare rooms to lodgers?” she cried out.
“Oh, that would be impossible!” returned the mother in dismay. “The rooms that your dear father used to live in!”
“That is what we must do,” answered Marion firmly; and in the end, as we have seen, that was what they did.
CHAPTER V.
THE third of May passed away, and, beyond the hanging up in the window of the card with “Lodgings to Let” written on it, nothing new had happened in the house at Hammersmith. But the exhibition of that card had been to Mrs. Lockhart an event of such momentous and tragic importance, that she did not know whether she were most astonished, relieved, or disappointed that it had produced no perceptible effect upon the outer universe.
“It seems to be of no use,” she said to her daughter, while the latter was assisting her in her morning toilet. “Had we not better take down the card, and try to think of something else. Couldn’t we keep half-a-dozen fowls, and sell the eggs?”
“How faint-hearted you are, mother!”