“But, Mr. Knight, they are in trouble about their furniture. What are they to do with that?”
“Will they not take it with them? They will want it in the new place as much as in the old.”
“But you do not forget what the old places are like, do you? If you remember, there is very little furniture to speak of in Paradise Grove. The beds and tables and chairs are all old, and most of them broken. The houses, since we tore down the dirty paper and had all the walls freshly whitewashed, are much cleaner than they were, and there has been a considerable quantity of soap and water brought to bear, not only upon the walls, but upon the furniture also. But still, I think it would be a great pity if these old things were put into your new houses. It would be a great expense, too—almost as much as they are worth to take them down.”
“But what is to be done? They cannot do with absolutely empty houses, and I am afraid very few of them have money to buy new tables and chairs.”
“Certainly they have not. How should they have?”
“Do you propose that they should sell their old things and buy new with part of the money?”
“I think, if it is not an impossible thing, for you to have the houses—those for the poorest people, at all events—furnished for them, with a few plain things which are absolutely necessary; it will go a long way to make your idea a success.”
“Yes. And is the furniture to be mine or theirs?”
“Yours, until they have paid for it.”
“I suppose it might be possible, but it would be rather an undertaking added to all the rest.”