Jim was astonished to learn the extent of Miss Butterworth’s resources.  She proposed to furnish the house from the savings of her years of active industry.  She had studied it so thoroughly during its progress, though she had never seen it, that she could have found every door and gone through every apartment of it in the dark.  She had received from Mr. Benedict the plan and dimensions of every room.  Carpets were made, matting was purchased, sets of furniture were procured, crockery, glass, linen, mirrors, curtains, kitchen-utensils, everything necessary to housekeeping, were bought and placed in store, so that, when the spring came, all that remained necessary was to give her order to forward them, and write her directions for their bestowal in the house.

The long-looked for time came at last.  The freshets of spring had passed away; the woods were filling with birds; the shad-blossoms were reaching their flat sprays out over the river, and looking at themselves in the sunny waters; and the thrush, standing on the deck of the New Year, had piped all hands from below, and sent them into the rigging to spread the sails.

Jim’s heart was glad.  His house was finished, and nothing remained but to fill it with the means and appliances of life, and with that precious life to which they were to be devoted.  The enterprise by which it was to be supported lay before him, and was a burden upon him; but he believed in himself, and was not afraid.

One morning, after he had gone over his house for the thousandth time, and mounted to the cupola for a final survey, he started for Sevenoaks to make his arrangements for the transportation of the furniture.  Two new boats had been placed on the river by men who proposed to act as guides to the summer visitors, and these he engaged to aid in the water transportation of the articles that had been provided by “the little woman.”

After his arrival in Sevenoaks, he was in consultation with her every day; and every day he was more impressed by the method which she had pursued in the work of furnishing his little hotel.

“I knowed you was smarter nor lightnin’,” he said to her; “but I didn’t know you was smarter nor a man.”

In his journeys, Jim was necessarily thrown into the company of Mike Conlin, who was officiously desirous to place at his disposal the wisdom which had been acquired by long years of intimate association with the feminine element of domestic life, and the duties and practices of housekeeping.  When the last load of furniture was on its way to Number Nine, and Jim had stopped at Mike’s house to refresh his weary team, Mike saw that his last opportunity for giving advice had come, and he determined to avail himself of it.

“Jim,” he said, “ye’re jist nothing but a babby, an’ ye must ax me some quistions.  I’m an owld housekaper, an’ I kin tell ye everything, Jim.”

Jim was tired with his work, and tired of Mike.  The great event of his life stood so closely before him, and he was so much absorbed by it, that Mike’s talk had a harsher effect upon his sensibilities than the grating of a saw-mill.