She pointed out a shoe box covered with paper similar to that on the walls.

Kate examined the room carefully, the bed, the closet, and tried the chairs.  Behind the girl, Mrs. Holt, with compressed lips, forgetting Adam’s presence, watched in evident disapproval.

“I want to see the stove,” said Kate.

“It is out in the woodhouse.  It hasn’t been cleaned up for the winter yet.”

“Then it won’t be far away.  Let’s look at it.”

Almost wholly lacking experience, Kate was proceeding by instinct in exactly the same way her father would have taken through experience.  Mrs. Holt hesitated, then turned:  “Oh, very well,” she said, leading the way down the hall, through the dining room, which was older in furnishing and much more worn, but still clean and wholesome, as were the small kitchen and back porch.  From it there was only a step to the woodhouse, where on a little platform across one end sat two small stoves for burning wood, one so small as to be tiny.  Kate walked to the larger, lifted the top, looked inside, tried the dampers and drafts and turning said:  “That is very small.  It will require more wood than a larger one.”

Mrs. Holt indicated dry wood corded to the roof.

“We git all our wood from the thicket across the way.  That little strip an’ this lot is all we have left of father’s farm.  We kept this to live on, and sold the rest for town lots, all except that gully, which we couldn’t give away.  But I must say I like the trees and birds better than mebby I’d like people who might live there; we always git our wood from it, and the shade an’ running water make it the coolest place in town.”

“Yes, I suppose they do,” said Kate.

She took one long look at everything as they returned to the hall.

“The Trustee told me your terms are four dollars and fifty cents a week, furnishing food and wood,” she said, “and that you allowed the last teacher to do her own washing on Saturday, for nothing.  Is that right?”

The thin lips drew more tightly.  Mrs. Holt looked at Kate from head to foot in close scrutiny.

“I couldn’t make enough to pay the extra work at that,” she said.  “I ought to have a dollar more, to really come out even.  I’ll have to say five-fifty this fall.”

“If that is the case, good-bye,” said Kate.  “Thank you very much for showing me.  Five-fifty is what I paid at Normal, it is more than I can afford in a village like this.”

She turned away, followed by Adam.  They crossed the street, watered the horse at the stream, placed his food conveniently for him, and taking their lunch box, seated themselves on a grassy place on the bank and began eating.

“Wasn’t that a pretty nice room?” asked Adam.  “Didn’t you kind of hate to give it up?”