"You never saw New York, did you?"
"No, never. Is it pleasanter than Briery Bank, Norton?"
"Well, not when the tulips are out, perhaps; but in the cold weather it's jolly enough. It's queer, though."
"Queer?" repeated Matilda curiously.
"I wonder if you wouldn't think so," said Norton. "I don't mean New York, you know; that's all right; but our house."
"I didn't know you had a house in New York," said Matilda.
"No, of course not; how should you? but now it's different. Pink, it is very jolly!" said Norton, quitting his seat in the chimney corner and coming down on the rug beside Matilda. "That's a good fire to roast chestnuts."
"Is it? but we haven't any chestnuts to roast," said Matilda.
"That's another thing you don't know," said Norton. "We've got a lot of chestnuts,—splendid ones, too. I'll fetch 'em, and we'll roast some. It's the very best way."
Norton went off for a basket, which proved to be full of brown, plump chestnuts, large and shining as they should be. Sitting down upon the rug again he began to prepare some for roasting, by cutting a small bit off one corner. Matilda picked up these bits of skin and threw them into the fire as fast as they were cut.