“Yes, it is low,” said Marcia. “Bartley, I think we'd better take it.”
She looked at him timidly, as if she were afraid he might not think it good enough; she did not think it good enough for him, but she felt that they must make their money go as far as possible.
“All right!” he said. “Then it's a bargain.”
“And how much more will the board be?”
“Well, there,” the landlady said, with candor, “I don't know as I can meet your views. I don't ever give board. But there's plenty of houses right on the street here where you can get day-board from four dollars a week up.”
“Oh, dear!” sighed Marcia; “and that would make it twelve dollars!”
“Why, the dear suz, child!” exclaimed the landlady, “you didn't expect to get it for less?”
“We must,” said Marcia.
“Then you'll have to go to a mechanics' boardin'-house.”
“I suppose we shall,” she returned, dejectedly. Bartley whistled.