In Greenwich Street he found what he sought—­a genteel-looking house with “Boarders wanted,” upon a card in the window.  Another good bargain was made, and hailing a passing “hack” he hastened back to the boat for Virginia and her trunk and soon they were rattling over the cobblestones.

“Why this is quite a mansion,” exclaimed the little wife, as she peered out at the house before which the carriage stopped—­for while the gentility of the establishment was of the proverbial “shabby” variety, the brown-stone porch and pillars gave it an air of unmistakable dignity.

Not long after their arrival the supper-bell rang, and they found themselves responding with alacrity.  When they took the seats assigned them and their hungry eyes took in the feast spread before them, they squeezed each other’s hands under the table—­these romantic young lovers and dreamers.  They had been happy in spite of frugality.  Many a time while hunger gnawed they had kissed each other and vowed they wanted nothing (high Heaven pardoning the gallant lie!) Yet now, the traveller’s appetite making their palates keen—­the travellers weariness in their limbs—­they were seized upon by an unblushing joy at finding themselves seated at an ample board with a kindly landlady at the head pouring tea—­strong and hot—­whose aroma was as the breath of roses in their nostrels, while her portly and beaming spouse, at the foot, with blustering hospitality pressed the bounty of the table upon them.  A bounteous table indeed, this decidedly cheap and somewhat shabby boarding-house spread, and to their eager appetites everything seemed delicious.

There were wheat bread and rye bread, butter and cheese, cold country ham and cold spring veal—­generous slices of both, piled up like little mountains—­and tea-cakes in like abundance.

They feasted daintily—­exquisitely, as they did everything, but they feasted heartily for the first time in months.

After supper they went to their room—­a spacious and comfortably, though plainly, furnished one, with a bright fire burning in a jolly little stove.  Their spirits knew no bounds.

“What would Catalina say to this solid comfort, Sis?” queried Eddie.  “I think she would faint for joy.”

For answer Virginia smiled upon him through a mist of tears.

“Why Virginia—­my Heart—­” he cried in amazement.  “What is it?”

“Only that it is too beautiful!” she managed to say.  “And to think that Muddie and Catalina are not here to share it with us!”

“Just as soon as I can scrape together enough money to pay for Muddie’s board and travelling expenses we will have them with us,” he assured her.

She dried her eyes and perched upon his knee while he went through his pockets and bringing out all the money he had, counted it into her palm.