It was one of those once spacious houses, not of "old," but at least of "middle-aged" New York; with large rooms arbitrarily divided into smaller ones.
"It's been a boarding-house, that's clear," said Mrs. MacAvelly.
"Why, of course," Miss Podder answered, eagerly plunging about and examining everything. "Anybody could see that! But it's been done over—most thoroughly. The cellar's all whitewashed, and there's a new furnace, and new range, and look at this icebox!" It was an ice-closet, as a matter of fact, of large capacity, and a most sanitary aspect.
"Isn't it too big?" Mrs. MacAvelly inquired.
"Not for a boarding-house, my dear," Miss Podder enthusiastically replied. "Why, they could buy a side of beef with that ice-box! And look at the extra ovens! Did you ever see a place better furnished—for what we want? It looks as if it had been done on purpose!"
"It does, doesn't it?" said Mrs. MacAvelley.
Miss Podder, eager and determined, let no grass grow under her feet.
The rent of the place was within reason.
"If they had twenty boarders—and some "mealers," I believe it could be done! she said. "It's a miracle—this house. Seems as if somebody had done it just for us!"
*
Armed with a list of girls who would agree to come, for six and seven dollars a week, Miss Podder made a trip to Willettville and laid the matter before Martha's mother.