Opening the glass door, they saw before them a narrow staircase in two flights.

“Stairs shut up in a room of their own,” said Ralph, as they ascended.  “Did you ever see anything like this before?”

“I never saw anything like anything before,” said Miriam, in a low, reverent voice.

On the floor above they found another wide hall, and four or five open doors.

“There is your lamp,” said Ralph to his sister; “take the first room you come to, and to-morrow we will pick and choose.”

“Who would have thought,” said Miriam, “that a woman—­”

“Don’t let us think or talk of her now,” interrupted her brother.  “To hurry down to supper is our present business.”

When the two went downstairs, they found the colored woman standing by an open door in the rear of the hall.

“Supper’s ready, sir,” said she, and they entered the dining-room.

It was a large and rather sparely furnished room, but Miriam and Ralph took no note of anything except the table, which stood in the middle of the floor, lighted by a hanging lamp.  It was a large table and arranged for eight people with chairs at every place.  The woman gave a little laugh, as she said:—­

“I reckon you all may think this is a pretty big table for two people, an’ one not growed up, but you see I didn’t know nothin’ about the size of the family, an’ Mike he didn’t know nothin’ either.  I’m Phoebe, Mike’s wife, an’ I ain’t got nothin’ in the world to do with this house, for mostly I go out to service in the town, but I’m here now; and of course we didn’t want you all to come an’ find nothin’ to eat, an’ no beds made, an’ as you didn’t write no orders, sir, we had just to do the best we could accordin’ to our own lights.  I reckoned there would be the gem’en and his wife, an’ perhaps two growed-up sons, though Mike, he was doubtful about the growed-up sons, especially as to thar bein’ two of them.  Then I reckoned thar’d be a darter, just about your age, Miss, an’ then there’d be two younger chillen, one a boy an’ one a girl, an’ a gov’ness for these two.  Of course I didn’t know whether the gov’ness was in the habit of eatin’ at your table or not, but I reckoned that this time, comin’ so late, you’d all eat at the same table, an’ I put a plate an’ a cheer for her.  An’ Mike went ter town, an’ got groc’ries an’ things enough for to-night and tomorrow, an’ as everything was ready I just left everything as it was.  I reckoned you wouldn’t want ter wait until I’d sot the whole table over again.”

“By no means,” cried Ralph, and down they sat, Ralph at one end of the long table, and Miriam at the other.  It was a good supper; beefsteak, an omelet, hot rolls, fried potatoes, coffee, tea, preserved fruit, and all on the scale suited to a family of eight.

When Phoebe had retired to the kitchen, presumably for additional supplies, Miriam stretched her arms over the table.

“Think of it, Ralph,” she said, “this is our supper.  The first meal we ever truly owned.”