"It is terrible when you have to sweep the carpet, isn't it? I must send for some book cases."
"You might let Mr. Midgin put up some—shelves I could stain them, and make them look very nice."
"Who is Mr. Midgin?"
"The carpenter."
"Oh! Well.—I think we had better send for him, Lois."
The door stood open into the kitchen, or dining-room rather, on account of the packing-cases which the girls were just moving out; then appeared the figure of Mrs. Marx in the opening.
"Lois, Charity ain't at home—How much beef are you goin' to want?"
"Beef?" said Lois, smiling at the transition in her thoughts.—"For salting, you mean?"
"For salting, and for smoking, and for mince-meat, and for pickling.
What is the girl thinking of?"
"She is thinking of books just now, Mrs. Marx," suggested Mrs. Barclay.