"Ah; I see," said Uncle John.
"And you can wash in my chamber," added the Major, with a grand air, "and hang your clothes on the spare hooks behind my door."
"I haven't many," said Uncle John, looking thoughtfully at his red bundle.
The Major coughed and turned the lamp a little higher.
"You'll find the air fine, and the neighborhood respectable," he said, to turn the subject. "Our modest apartments are cool in summer and warm in winter, and remarkably reasonable in price. Patsy gets our breakfast on the stove yonder, and we buy our lunches down town, where we work, and then dine at Danny Reeves's place. A model home, sir, and a happy one, as I hope you'll find it."
"I'm sure to be happy here," said Uncle John, taking out his pipe.
"May I smoke?"
"Of course; but don't spoil the lace curtains, dear," answered Patsy, mischievously. And then, turning to her father, she exclaimed: "Oh, daddy! What will the Uncle do all the day while we're at work?"
"That's as he may choose," said the Major, courteously.
"Couldn't we get him a job?" asked Patsy, wistfully. "Not where there'll be much work, you know, for the Uncle is old. But just to keep him out of mischief, and busy. He can't hang around all day and be happy, I suppose."
"I'll look around," answered the Major, briskly, as if such a "job" was the easiest thing in the world to procure. "And meantime—"